


Reincarnation

by touchinghearts



Category: SHINee
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Chaptered, Character Death, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-24
Updated: 2011-06-23
Packaged: 2017-10-20 16:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/touchinghearts/pseuds/touchinghearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minho thinks he’s been given a second chance when he meets Jinki, someone he believes to be the reincarnation of his passed lover, Taemin. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 5 chapters, old story reposted, unbetaed. Forgive possible mistakes in the grammar, context areas, do inform if you'd like to give corrections. :D

_“I’m sorry.”_

 _“For what, hyung?”_

 _“For not taking proper care of you when I had the chance.”_

 _“That’s alright, hyung. I understand.”_

 _“I wish I had a second chance. I wouldn’t screw up again.”_

 _A small laugh._

 _“Well, who knows? Maybe I’ll come back to life one day and you’ll have the chance to do it properly. Maybe I’ll be reincarnated for you.”_

 _“You don’t really believe that?”_

 _“Anything’s possible, hyung.”_

It had been exactly a year. Today was the first anniversary of that day and Minho was very aware of this fact. But he didn’t linger over the thought. It was too painful. After one whole year, he was no more healed now than he was back then. Better to focus on other things instead.

“One cappuccino, please. Tall.”

“Coming right up, miss.”

Today was special, though perhaps not in a good way. He decided he would do something different this time. Along with the weekly bouquet of tulips, he’d bring along his iPod and play the Michael Jackson songs in it. And maybe bring that autographed album, too, just for the sake of it. His shift would be over in an hour and the next one wouldn’t start until after dinner. He’d have time to go fetch it from his apartment before he headed for the train station.

“I’d like coffee. Black, please.”

“Would you like anything else with that, sir?”

“No, thank you.”

“Here you go, sir. Please come again.”

It was office hours right now, so the cafe wasn’t busy. Minho couldn’t miss the new customer who came in, walking through the entrance with his hands in his jacket pockets as he looked around in interest. He took a seat at a small table next to the big window. One of the waiters headed over with a menu under one arm.

Minho watched the stranger curiously as he ordered orange juice and a scone. The cafe was small and most of its customers were regulars. But it wasn’t rare for someone unknown to come in once in a while. Minho wasn’t even sure why this person caught his attention in the first place; there was just something about him that couldn’t be ignored although he had no idea what that could be.

Shaking his head, Minho hooked his apron on the stand and waved goodbye to his co-workers before heading out. He passed the customer, catching a glimpse of him staring at his calendar on a fancy-looking phone. He stepped onto the pavement and remembered that he had to pick up his dry-cleaning. He could do that first; being a little late for his weekly visit wouldn’t hurt anyone. Him, least of all. He glanced up at the sky and smiled bitterly.

It looked like it was about to rain. How fitting.

 **.x.**

The unknown customer came again every day after the first time. Minho was never the one who serviced him, since he was the bartender at the counter and the man never got take-away. He didn’t think much of it and went about his business as usual.

That is until one day the man walked in, his shoulders slumped and a distraught expression on his face. Minho stared as he ambled towards the counter and sunk onto the chair, burying his face in his arms. The tall cashier looked around nervously and finally decided to inch closer.

“Err...sir?”

The man’s head lifted and small honey eyes regarded him blankly.

Minho cleared his throat. “Are you, um...okay?” he attempted.

The man blinked. Then he shrugged as he straightened. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, staring at the counter with what something that could be called a very failed attempt at a glare.

Minho wondered what he should do next. “Erm...is something wrong?” he said. “You seem sort of...down.”

“No, no.” The other man shook his head, a distant look settling on his face. “I was just—I was looking for someone, that’s all.”

A strange feeling passed through Minho’s chest. He frowned in confusion but it disappeared as fast as it had come. He brushed it off.

“Would you like anything?” he asked next. “Something to eat? Our chicken pie is the best around.”

The man regarded him for a moment. “Sure,” he finally agreed. “I’ll have one, please.”

“Drink?”

“Plain water would be nice, please.”

In a short while Minho had the order ready and since there were no other customers, he took a seat across from the strange man.

“Are you from around here?” he asked out of pure curiosity. “I’ve never seen you before you started coming here.”

The man swallowed a bite of his pie. “I moved here a couple of days ago,” he said simply with a small smile.

“Ah,” was Minho’s reply. He didn’t know what else to say.

“I’m Lee Jinki, by the way.”

Minho smiled, glad for the opening. “Choi Minho,” he introduced, holding out a hand. “So a few days ago, huh? From Busan?”

“Gyeonggi-do, actually,” Jinki said as they shook. “It was my birth place but with the way things turned out, I ended up moving here.”

“Did you come here alone?”

“Yeah. I bought an apartment two blocks away on the left.”

Minho grinned. “What a coincidence. My apartment’s two blocks away on the right.”

Jinki smiled, making Minho’s stomach flip just a little. He brushed it off. It wasn’t like it meant anything.

“So, which college are you in?” he asked.

Jinki’s lips twitched. “I finished about two years ago,” he said. “I’m 24.”

Minho blinked in surprise. “Really?” He had seriously thought the man was at least his age. Though, now that he looked closely, Jinki’s eyes did seem a bit mature for a regular college kid. “Do you have a job?”

“I got one before moving here. Do you know the day care centre down the street?”

“Yeah. You work there?”

“Just to fill up my time. I have another job offer, but I have to wait until the spot’s free. The person has a few loose ends to tie up first so I’m loitering around till then.”

“What’s the job, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Computer engineer.”

Minho blinked, impressed. “Wow,” he said. “You must be pretty smart. It isn’t easy to get a job for that.”

Jinki shrugged although his cheeks were shaded just the slightest bit pink. “It’s nothing really,” he said, eyes downcast. He quickly looked up and changed the subject. “So have you been working here long?”

“A few months,” Minho answered. “My brother owns this cafe and I’m working here as assistant manager until I graduate.”

“I guess you’re studying in university?”

“Last semester. Finals are coming up in a month.”

Jinki smiled again. “Good luck then,” he said cheerfully. “I hope you do well.”

 _“You’re exams are coming up, hyung. Good luck! I hope you do well.”_

Minho’s expression twisted for a moment before he returned the smile.

“Thanks,” he said, refusing to think about how much he missed Taemin right at that moment.

 **.x.**

When Jinki entered the cafe the next day, Minho greeted him warmly.

“Nice to see you again, Jinki-shii,” he said.

Far more cheerful now compared to yesterday, Jinki smiled brightly up at him as he returned the greeting. Minho’s grin slipped for a moment when the image of Taemin replaced Jinki’s, beaming up at him like he always used to. But then the visage was gone, leaving only the happy Jinki plopping onto a seat in front of him. Minho tried not to think about how strikingly similar Jinki’s smile was to Taemin’s.

“I’ll have banana milk, please,” the customer ordered.

“Banana milk?” Minho said, amused. “Aren’t you a little too old for that?”

“I love banana milk,” said Jinki defensively. “What’s wrong with that?”

‘Taemin used to love banana milk, too.’ The thought strayed across the back of Minho’s mind but he ignored it.

With a small (and maybe slightly forced) laugh, Minho fetched a jar from the fridge and poured out the chilled banana milk.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asked.

“Not right now,” said Jinki. Minho excused himself to serve the other customers lining up. Jinki waved at him and went to sip at his drink. As he did so, he watched the bartender work, honey eyes curious and contemplative. He cocked his head.

“Is there something on my face?” Minho said when he returned. “You’ve been staring at me for a while.”

Jinki blushed, exactly the way Taemin used to whenever he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Minho violently pushed the thought away. Why the hell was everything reminding him of Taemin today?

“I was just wondering,” said the older man. “Have we met before?”

Minho looked at him in confusion. “I...don’t think so,” he said slowly. “Why?”

Jinki pursed his lips. “It’s just that you look a little familiar,” he explained. “I can’t remember where I’ve seen you before, though.”

“You think you’ve met me before this?”

“I’m not really sure. You just seem rather familiar.”

Minho’s heartbeat sped up. A crazy notion began to form in his mind but he squashed it down. It was ridiculous. Totally out of the question. He was insane for even thinking about it.

“So where are you going after this?” he said, trying to distract himself.

Jinki grinned cheesily. “Wherever the wind takes me,” he said mysteriously. “Wanna come?”

 _“Where are you going, Taeminnie?”_

 _Taemin grinned up at him. “I’m going wherever the wind takes me, hyung,” he said, twirling around on light feet. “Wanna come with me?”_

Minho’s mouth threatened to drop. There was no way such a thing could happen. It just couldn’t be true. Jinki was laughing, amused by his own ridiculous Pocahontas quote. His honey eyes sparkled at Minho, who felt his stomach flip again, exactly the way it did whenever Taemin’s round brown orbs twinkled happily at him.

‘This can’t be,’ he thought frantically.

“I’m sorry,” said Jinki, trying to muffle his giggles. “I was just reminded of something that happened a long time ago and I couldn’t help it. I’m silly, I know.”

Minho continued staring at him, shock freezing him in place. Jinki beamed at him, sensing nothing amiss, completely oblivious to Minho’s swirling thoughts.

 _“Well, who knows? Maybe I’ll come back to life one day and you’ll have that chance to do it properly.”_

It was impossible.

 **.x.**

Taemin had been one of the very few people that could make Minho happy by just being around. He was a constant in his life, the one thing Minho could rely on to light the passing days with his gentle but bright personality. Their friendship was old but strong, lasting through years, from childhood to high school days where evolution began to take place.

They’d loved each other since they first met. Minho, the quiet, gangly eight-year old and Taemin, the bouncy, tiny six-year old. Meeting for the first time when Minho moved in next door and Taemin had come skipping towards him, armed with a soccer ball and a friendly invitation to play.

From then on, they’d been the best of friends which eventually turned into more. They had stuck by each other’s side and remained true despite differing ages and school years. Hardly anything could rip them away from each other, and Minho had been entirely convinced, even when he left high school, that this fact wouldn’t change.

But it had. In fact, it had changed directly _after_ he left high school. It had been totally unexpected. Approximately two hours after he had last spoken to Taemin, his young boyfriend had called to tell him that he was in the hospital for suspected cancer. Minho had immediately rushed over from college a state away and met up with Taemin’s grim-faced family members.

Taemin had checked in because of some unknown abdominal pain, they had informed him. During the check-up, the doctor had been suspicious at the location of the pain and decided to conduct tests. In the end, he found that Taemin had symptoms consistent with cancer. Two days later, he was confirmed to be in the advanced stages of kidney cancer.

Minho had been horrified. He had asked his college friends to cover for him during classes and lied to his soccer coach about having to go home for a family emergency (which, though not literal, wasn’t really too far off the mark). In reality he was by Taemin’s side, supporting him through everything. Taemin refused to undergo radiotherapy despite the insistence of his family and doctor. Minho, who obviously preferred it if Taemin went through treatment, kept his opinion to himself.

He didn’t have the heart to go against his little redhead. Whatever Taemin wanted, he gave. He couldn’t really do anything else, not when guilt would threaten to drown him if he ever thought of trying. He had taken Taemin for granted. He had been certain that his flighty redhead would always be around, that he would forever be by his side. He had been _sure_ they could never part.

But he had been wrong. So, so wrong.

Taemin was diagnosed with cancer. He was estimated to have little more than a year left to live. He accepted it. Everybody else didn’t.

From then on, Minho had cherished every single moment he spent with Taemin. He practically worshipped him, and all his efforts were focused to making sure his little redhead was happy. He had sworn to himself that he would make Taemin’s last memories the best of his entire life.

And that was what he did. He was so intent on it, so absorbed in ensuring that Taemin never had a moment’s sadness, that he had no time to think about the truth. He had resolutely pushed the hard fact that Taemin would die to the very back of his mind, until it became nothing more than a distant future. An abstract notion that he hardly ever comprehended, for his own protection.

Because thinking about it made it real. And Minho had desperately wanted to pretend it wasn’t.

He succeeded for the most part. He was always so busy taking care of Taemin, taking him out to do all the things he had ever wanted to do, that he couldn’t think of anything else. Taemin hadn’t liked that, but Minho had insisted and in the end, the redhead couldn’t deny him. They had spent a whole year, blissful and happy together, living the life they had always dreamed they would go through eventually.

But reality had soon caught up with Minho. He had been away from his college too long. Exams were coming up and if he failed them, he would be held back a year. Despite the consequences, he would have ignored that if it hadn’t been for the fact Taemin had found out about it. He had demanded for Minho to return to his studies instead of loitering around.

At the time, Taemin had been bedridden. Not weak enough that he couldn’t move but he hadn’t been able to do a lot of activities without suffering pain or severe exhaustion. Minho had absolutely refused to leave him – especially when he was more than aware that time was fast running out as Taemin’s condition worsened – but his boyfriend wouldn’t take no for an answer.

In the end, Minho had reluctantly agreed to return to college for the exams. He had promised to come back the moment they were over. Their parting had been painful but Minho didn’t let it get to him. He had told Taemin that it would be the last time he would ever leave his side.

It turned out to be the last time, period. A week and a half later, Minho received news that Taemin had passed away. He rushed back immediately but there was nothing that could be done. He hadn’t been there as he had promised and now Taemin was gone.

He’d heard that there had been only a few family members with him when he died. Minho didn’t know who exactly; just that it was his parents and a cousin or two. He hadn’t felt the need to find out more; it hurt too much.

He couldn’t handle the pain either. Unable to bear it for much longer, he had taken everything that was associated with Taemin – pictures, objects, _everything_ that brought an image of the little redhead to mind – and boxed them all away in a chest, stuffed at the back of the highest shelf in his closet. It had been the only way he could cope.

And since then, he always felt guilty. He had taken something so precious to him for granted, and now it was too late for him to do anything about it. He couldn’t right his wrong and he would be forced to live with his regret forever.

At least, that was what he thought. Until he met Jinki.

Minho rolled over onto his side, staring out into the darkness of his bedroom. Could it...was it really possible that Lee Jinki was the reincarnation of Lee Taemin? The concept was absurd to say the least but still. Jinki was so alike to Taemin. His words, his personality, his smile. Everything he did was reminiscent of his passed lover.

Was it a coincidence that the first time Minho had seen him was also the first anniversary of Taemin’s passing? Or was it a sign? Could he believe something like that? And what had Jinki said just this afternoon?

 _“Have we met before?”_

 _“I...don’t think so. Why?”_

 _“It’s just that you look a little familiar. I can’t remember where I’ve seen you before, though.”_

Minho was a hundred percent sure he wouldn’t forget someone like Jinki. He’d definitely never even seen him anywhere. Not as ‘Jinki’ anyway. So why did Jinki say he look familiar? They had never met before; how could have he looked familiar at all? Unless that theory that had popped up had some truth to it.

‘It can’t be,’ Minho thought. ‘It just can’t. Things like that don’t exist. It’s just coincidence.’ He bit his lip. Even in his head, he couldn’t convince himself.

The thing is, it was too _much_ of a coincidence. Nearly everything about Jinki reminded him of Taemin. They were so similar in so many ways. Was it really at all feasible to think that he...that he really was Taemin in a different form?

‘Maybe?’ Minho hesitated to himself. He didn’t know if he could believe something so illogical. It went through all the boundaries of science itself. But if this was real, he definitely couldn’t ignore it and go on like nothing had happened. He needed this second opportunity. He didn’t want to do things wrong all over again.

If there was even the slightest chance he could have Taemin come back to him...he couldn’t let it pass by. But could he really put his faith in the idea that Taemin had come back to life in another body?

 _“Maybe I’ll be reincarnated for you.”_

 _“You don’t really believe that?”_

 _“Anything’s possible, hyung.”_

Minho squeezed his eyes shut. The real question wasn’t whether he believed it or not. It was whether he was willing to risk losing that second chance he’d been wishing for, ever since Taemin’s death.

The answer was simple; over his dead body.

 **.x.**

“Back when I was a teenager,” said Jinki, “I wanted to be a star.”

Minho paused in his coffee-brewing to look at him. “A star?” he said. “You mean like an idol?”

Jinki’s lips curved softly. “Yeah,” he affirmed. “I really had big dreams. You know, regular ones most teenagers have. I wanted to be known worldwide, get famous.”

 _“I want to be famous one day,” said Taemin absently._

 _“Famous?”_

 _“Yeah. I want to be a superstar. Everyone’ll know my name.”_

 _Minho grinned and wrapped an arm around the younger boy’s shoulders. “Maybe one day that’ll happen.”_

 _Taemin smacked him playfully. “You don’t think I can do it!” he accused._

 _“Of course I do.” Minho’s grin softened. “In my eyes, you’re already the brightest star around.”_

 _Taemin blushed and looked down at the ground shyly. “Do you think I should try?”_

 _Minho laid his head on the red-head’s shoulder. “If it’s your dream, you should definitely pursue it,” he stated. “I’d support you, whatever you decide.”_

 _Taemin smiled at him. “Thanks, hyung.”_

“Did you ever try it out?” Minho asked curiously.

“Oh, definitely. My friends encouraged me. My parents were very supportive. I had confidence that I’d succeed if I set my mind to it. I was willing to work hard because it was my dream.”

The tall bartender gazed at him, catching the slight wistful expression within honey orbs.

“I even signed up at an academy,” Jinki continued. “Everything was going great. I was on my way.”

Minho tilted his head as he swallowed past a painful lump in his throat. “What happened?”

Jinki shrugged. “Things just didn’t work out,” he said softly. “My grades dropped because I was too focused on being a star. In the end, I made the decision to stop attending the academy so I could concentrated on my studies. I didn’t go back after that.”

“I’m sorry,” said Minho, genuinely sympathetic.

Jinki smiled at him. “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he said delicately. “Some dreams come true. Some just don’t.”

Minho was silent, watching Jinki stir his cup of tea. He glanced at the clock. “My shift’s just about to finish,” he said suddenly, causing the older man to look up at him. “Want to go for a walk?”

Jinki blinked. “A walk?” he repeated.

Minho smiled slightly. “There’s a park around the corner,” he divulged. “It’s a nice place for walks.”

Jinki stared at him for a moment and his cheeks heated up. “S-sure,” he stuttered. “That’d...that’d be nice.”

“Just wait a second, okay?”

Once Minho had settled everything, they walked out the door of the cafe and headed for the park. As he’d said, it was just around the corner. Jinki took in the quaint environment with interest, eyes smoothing over hedges and trees and numerous paths carved into the rock. His gaze lingered fondly on the children’s playground situated in the middle of the park.

“This place seems new,” he commented.

“It was built just three years ago,” Minho informed him. “Since there’re lots of kids and retired citizens in this area, people were asking for a park and the committee agreed.”

“It’s very pretty. I like it.”

Minho only smiled in reply, although it became a bit strained when he recalled that Taemin had liked the place as well. The pair went down one of the paths that led into the substantially-sized park, walking slowly as they regarded the scenery and the people loitering around on a lazy Saturday.

“Oh, look at that.” Jinki pointed over to a tiny Daschund, rolling over in front of its owner. “It’s so cute.”

“You like dogs?” Minho inquired. Taemin had adored dogs. He had owned two back at home. Minho wondered what had happened to them now that their owner was gone. Had Taemin’s older brother taken them or had they been brought to a shelter? Maybe they had even been put to sleep. He didn’t know. He hadn’t visited Taemin’s family home since the death.

He was brought back to reality when Jinki answered.

“I like them.” He smiled sheepishly. “But I’m sort of scared of them, too. I’m not very good with small animals in general, actually. Especially dogs.”

“Why would you be scared of them?”

“It’s a stupid story,” Jinki said, waving it off with a nervous laugh. “Nothing worth listening to.”

The corner of Minho’s lips lifted. He raised his bony shoulders once in a show of carelessness. “It’s not like there’s anything better to do.”

Jinki bit his lip. Then he sighed. “I had a pet dog once, when I was little,” he began. “My parents said I loved to carry it around. But I was small and I wasn’t very strong so I couldn’t hold it for long. I ended up dropping it and...well, it didn’t turn out pretty.”

Jinki wrinkled his nose at the memory. “Since then, I guess I developed a phobia around dogs,” he said, shrugging. “I get nervous a lot with them. And I can’t carry living things either. Except maybe plants. Not kids. Especially not kids.”

Minho raised his eyebrows at him. “But aren’t you working at a day care centre?”

“I mostly just keep an eye on them. And bring them food. My co-worker Kibum does most of the hands-on work.” Jinki sighed again. “I try to get close to them, though. I like kids. It’s hard but I’m making progress.”

Minho smiled and touched the older man’s elbow. “I’m sure you’ll be able to carry one of them soon, hyung,” he said gently, the title slipping from his lips naturally.

Jinki seemed startled for a moment but then he smiled, warmed by the kind words. Minho’s stomach flipped again. This time, he didn’t try to ignore how Jinki’s eyes crinkled up into crescent half-moons in the exact same way Taemin’s used to.

As the afternoon progressed into evening, Minho became more and more convinced that his crazy theory was true. Along with the time he spent with Jinki, the proof continued to increase. His personality drew amazingly well against Taemin’s, with perhaps a few differences here and there. He paid no attention to them, however, choosing to focus instead on the clear similarities that shoved themselves into his face.

Jinki was naturally cheerful and happy, and he always had a smile ready for everything. He was pleasant and polite (definitely far more polite than Taemin had ever been, but that could be explained considering their differing levels of maturity) but sweet as cotton candy, which he admitted he loved to binge on. He was gentle, matching perfectly with his soft voice that held no barriers when he was amused, laughter tumbling out loud and harmonious.

Jinki often cracked jokes that were pretty lame, Minho noticed. Taemin rarely tried and instead chose to make him laugh with snarky wit and a quick tongue. Although this attribute was clearly new, Minho couldn’t help but find it endearing in Jinki, who was so earnest in his attempts that Minho found himself genuinely laughing at the childish punch lines.

Just like Taemin, Jinki blushed very easily. Minho was delighted to find that this fact hadn’t changed and used it to his full advantage.

“Hyung, you look cute when you smile,” he said playfully as they settled beneath a shady tree.

On cue, Jinki turned a brilliant red that practically glowed. “Don’t say weird things,” he mumbled, looking at anything but the grinning Minho.

 _“Taemin-ah, you’re so cute.”_

 _Against his will, Taemin flushed. “You’re weird, hyung,” he muttered, unable to meet the older one’s eyes._

Jinki was an only child, surprisingly enough. Minho had expected him to have an older brother like Taemin but he quickly dismissed it. Not everything in a reincarnation had to be the same. After all, the fact that Jinki was older than Minho (as compared to the younger Taemin) had been blatant from day one—or two, if he was literal. And maybe their characters weren’t totally the same but that was to be expected, wasn’t it? Minho hadn’t really thought – he’d hoped, but not seriously – that they would be identical.

Their looks were also significantly different. Where Taemin’s features were soft and feminine, Jinki’s were sharp and a bit more defined. Taemin’s brown eyes had been big and round, not unlike Minho’s own, but Jinki’s honey orbs were small and narrow. Despite these clear distinctions, Minho wasn’t at all put off. If anything, he rather liked Jinki’s chubby cheeks which enhanced his mesmerising smile and his full lips that invited Minho to do something highly inappropriate at this stage of their friendship.

He took it all as a sign. It was quickly becoming obvious that Lee Jinki _was_ the reincarnation of Lee Taemin. Even their last names were the same. What other explanation could there be?

“Hyung?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think past lives are possible?”

Jinki hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know,” he said. “I contemplated the concept once. Then I decided it didn’t really matter. If we’re reborn, then that’s great. If we’re not, we just have to enjoy this one life we do have.”

Minho let his eyes roam over the park, noting the longer shadows that spoke of the lengthening hour. That wasn’t the answer he had wanted to hear but he supposed the question itself was pointless. Jinki’s reply was perfectly logical and normal. It wasn’t like he was aware that he was someone’s reincarnation. He had answered according to how he, as Jinki, thought.

Minho wondered how Taemin would have answered.

 

 **TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

The cafe was empty since it was already late and as assistant manager Minho had today’s duty of closing shop. He wasn’t alone this time, however, since Jinki had stayed to keep him company. And to get free food.

Jinki frowned as he jabbed his fork at his uncounted helping of chicken pie. A piece broke off from its corner and tumbled to the floor of the plate. He poked it for a few seconds before setting the fork down with a sigh. He looked up then, staring at Minho who was intent on his task of drying the glasses.

“Hey, Minho?” he said.

Minho looked up. “Yeah?”

Jinki stared at him then blushed. “Never mind,” he said, quickly casting his eyes back to the chicken pie.

Minho raised an eyebrow. “What is it, hyung?” he said. “Did you want to say something?”

“It’s nothing,” said Jinki hastily, trying to wave it off. “Forget about it.”

Minho gazed at him oddly, wondering what was causing the older man to be so jumpy. “Is something wrong, hyung?” he asked worriedly, setting the cleaning cloth down beside the last glass.

“Nothing’s wrong!” Jinki frowned at his unconvincing tone but ploughed on nonetheless. “Ignore me and just go back to...whatever you were doing.”

Minho held back an amused chuckle. “I’m done. Just tell me.”

“I already said it was nothing!”

“You’re terrible at lying, hyung,” Minho pointed out with considerable glee. “Will you look at me?”

Jinki raised his eyes to meet Minho’s, slightly large front teeth (Taemin’s used to be straight and perfect) worrying his full bottom lip. He was obviously nervous, though for the life of him Minho couldn’t figure out why.

“You can tell me, go on,” he urged gently, leaning over the counter to look at Jinki square in the face. Colour rose in those plump cheeks from the close proximity but Jinki didn’t move away. “What’s wrong?”

The blush intensified. Jinki hesitated, clearly debating the matter in his mind but in the end he seemed to make a decision. With his honey eyes looking at anything but the attentive (and amused) Minho, Jinki spoke. “I just...there’s an art exhibition sh-showing next w-week,” he stuttered. “I wanted to ask if...if you’d s-see it with m-me?”

Minho raised an eyebrow again. Was that all? “Sure,” he said. “I’d love to.”

The pure relief blooming on Jinki’s face, along with the spreading of the pretty flush, surprised Minho. Why had Jinki been so afraid in the first place? It wasn’t like inviting him to go to an art exhibition together would be a nerve-wracking thing to do. And it definitely wasn’t something to merit such happiness currently radiating from Jinki as he attacked his previously-abandoned chicken pie.

Unless Jinki had something else in mind with that invitation?

“Hyung...” said Minho slowly, making Jinki look up again. “Was...were you asking me out?”

Jinki at first blushed then turned a fascinating green before going deathly pale. He opened and closed his mouth several times in an impressive impression of a goldfish but not a word came out. Apparently Minho had hit the nail on the head. The bartender smirked.

“So, a date, huh, hyung?” he said, enjoying the way Jinki’s honey eyes shimmered with anxiety. “You could’ve just said so outright instead of being all subtle. You’re pretty bad at it. I would’ve said yes.”

“I know it’s weird, it’s just that I really like you and—wait, what?” Jinki blinked rapidly. “You...would?”

“Sure.” Minho smiled sweetly. “Since I like you, too, hyung.”

Jinki gaped at him. “You—you do?” he squeaked.

Minho didn’t know why he found the way the older man’s face shone hopefully at him so attractive. “Is it so hard to believe?” he questioned, setting his chin on his hand. “You’re really easy to like.”

The blush on Jinki’s face looked like it’d take permanent residence there. “I thought...well, I didn’t think you’d like someone...someone like me,” he mumbled.

“Why not? I probably wouldn’t like someone unless they were like you.” ‘And isn’t that the truth,’ Minho thought, as an image of Taemin flashed through his mind. “You’re definitely my type.”

Jinki smiled diffidently. “Thanks,” he said, still unable to raise his eyes.

Minho leaned forward. “Hey, Jinki-hyung,” he said lowly, instantly gaining the other’s full attention. “Why not make it a real first date?”

“R-real?”

“Yeah.” Minho’s smile widened. “I was actually going to ask you out tomorrow.”

Impossibly, Jinki’s blush deepened. “You—you were going to ask me out?” he asked softly, as though he didn’t dare to believe it.

He really had self-confidence issues, Minho noted. He’d have to fix that sometime in the future. “Yeah, I was. Skating. The new rink just opened last month and my friend said it was cool. How about it?”

“Skating?” said Jinki doubtfully, his voice small. “I haven’t...I’ve never skated before.”

Minho’s smile became gentle. “That’s okay, I’ll teach you. Unless you want to do something else? I don’t mind.”

Jinki hesitated. “No,” he finally said. “Let’s go skating.” He tried to smile. “First time for everything, right?”

Minho reached out a hand and placed it over Jinki’s, causing him to tense up in surprise. “Don’t worry,” said the bartender, tone playful but conveying a note of promise. “I won’t let you fall.”

The blush, which had begun to recede, returned full-force. Jinki sputtered but he couldn’t contain a wide smile he tried fruitlessly to hide. Minho was enraptured by the sweet shyness the other man exhibited.

 _“Taemin-ah?”_

 _“Mmm?”_

 _“Will you go on a date with me?”_

 _Taemin froze then rounded on him. “W-what did you say?”_

 _Minho fought back the flush trying to creep up his neck. “I asked if you’d go on a date with me,” he repeated, voice steady and serious._

 _“A d-date?” Taemin’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “Seriously?”_

 _“Of course.”_

 _The red-head stared at him mutely. Minho resisted the urge to fidget as the seconds ticked by with no response forthcoming. In his mind, he was desperately hoping he hadn’t made an utter fool of himself. Finally, Taemin seemed to snap out of it and reddened._

 _“I...I’d love to,” he managed to say, smiling shyly._

 _Minho couldn’t help but grin in relief. “Great,” he said happily. “So what do you say to a day at the skating rink this Saturday? My treat.”_

 _Taemin’s smile widened. “That sounds perfect,” was all he could reply with._

“Minho?”

Minho blinked and focused back on Jinki, who was looking at him with some worry.

The bartender cursed himself when he realised he’d lost himself in memories but smiled to ease the other’s evident concern. “I’m fine,” he assured. “I just spaced out for a second.”

“What were you thinking about?”

Minho regarded Jinki’s innocently-interested features but all he could see was Taemin’s blushing face.

“Nothing,” he replied. “It’s nothing.”

 **.x.**

Jinki was pretty slow at picking up the art of skating, Minho observed the next day. Either that or he was really, really bad.

“Yaah!” Jinki flailed for yet another time before he slipped and started to fall. Before he could land, however, Minho caught him and hoisted him back up. “Oh! T-thanks, Minho-ah...”

Minho smiled. “No problem, hyung,” he said. “Want to try again?”

“Err...I think I’ll take a break first,” said Jinki with a nervous laugh. Minho didn’t protest and guided him towards the handle bar circling the skating rink. Jinki instantly grabbed it, legs shaky as he tried to maintain his balance on stationary blades.

Taemin had been an excellent skater. Agile and elegant, his smooth movements over the ice made it seem like he was flying. Grace flowed from every fibre of his being. In fact, Taemin was graceful in everything he did because that was how he was; supple, poised, perfect in all the ways Minho could think of. He could still recall how beautiful Taemin had looked as he skated in perfect circles around him, showing off his natural talent to impress.

It was the complete opposite of Jinki who seemed to be a bit of a klutz. When they’d first stepped out into the rink, he had clung to Minho like a leech (not that Minho had any complaints whatsoever), refusing to let go despite the taller one’s soft coaxing. He had been utterly terrified and it was quite a while before he was willing to give it a try on his own. He still couldn’t skate well, however, barely able to stay standing for more than half a minute.

And it wasn’t only on ice. Even without being on razor-thin blades of metal, Jinki somehow managed to trip at least ten times in a single day. Minho found it odd how he, as Taemin’s reincarnation, completely lacked the grace Taemin had practically been born with.

He couldn’t find it in him to get annoyed though. Jinki’s determination to keep trying was admirable, and Minho found it charming how earnest he was to learn skating in spite of being less than skilled at it. He also found the way Jinki flapped his arms wildly like a chicken when he fought to maintain balance highly entertaining.

But he could see the paleness of Jinki’s skin and the death grip he had on the handle bar. The engineer was terrified of falling and he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. Minho felt a little bad that he hadn’t considered Jinki’s feelings before choosing this activity and took pity on him.

“Should we leave?” Minho asked, grasp tight and warm at Jinki’s elbow. “We could go somewhere else.”

The brunette looked up at him in alarm. “No!” he said hastily. “I want to do this. We don’t have to go yet.”

Minho tilted his head. “You’re not enjoying this,” he stated. “It’s our first date. I want you to enjoy it.”

“I am.” Jinki tried to smile convincingly but the expression trembled.

Minho gazed at him critically. “I already said you were a terrible liar. I can tell you don’t want to be here.”

“That’s not true!” Jinki protested. “I do want to be here. You’re here.”

That caught the bartender by surprise. He stared at Jinki who continued to speak, cheeks heating up.

“I’m just a little nervous. Like I said, I’ve never skated before and balance isn’t really one of my major points so I keep getting these scary images of me falling and cracking my head open on the ice; it isn’t pretty and it’s kind of hard for me to not think about it when I try to skate—”

He was cut off when Minho placed a finger on his lips. He stared up at the taller one with huge eyes. When he was sure Jinki wasn’t going to speak, Minho retracted his hand.

“I really don’t mind if we go somewhere else, Jinki-hyung,” he said with a small smile. “It’s no big deal.”

“But you like skating,” said Jinki weakly. “I don’t want to spoil your fun.”

Once again Minho was caught by surprise at the words. Touched, his smile widened. “We could always come again some other time. What matters now is that we enjoy this date together.”

Jinki still looked like he was going to insist so Minho decided to bargain.

“How about this,” he said. “We’ll skate the rink one last time. Full circle.”

“Together?”

Minho slipped an arm around the other’s waist but Jinki was too afraid to even blush. “Just follow what I do and hold onto me,” he said. “I promise I won’t let you go.”

Jinki looked at him uncertainly for a moment then slowly let go of the handle bar. He wobbled and instantly latched onto Minho who grabbed a hand with his free one.

“Ready?” he said, pressing close against Jinki.

The engineer nodded, face pale. Minho smiled gently and began to move. He limited his movements so the older man could keep up. Jinki had a death grip on his hand but he didn’t mind, not when he could see the way the sweet face started to light up with each second that passed. The engineer seemed to radiate awe and soon he looked like he was actually enjoying it.

Minho kept them pressed close together as they glided forward on the ice, slow and steady. They went through the full circle until they finally came to a stop at the entrance.

“That was fun,” Jinki admitted, gingerly stepping back onto cement floor.

“It was,” Minho agreed. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. I was scared at first but I forgot about it after a while.”

Minho smiled. “See?” he said. “I told you I wouldn’t let you fall.”

Jinki looked down at the ground, the blush colouring his cheeks prettily. He didn’t reply. After they had taken off their skates and returned them at the counter, Minho interlocked their fingers together.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, grinning.

Jinki’s answering smile was accompanied by still-pink cheeks. “Sure,” he agreed.

As they walked down the street, hand in hand, Minho remembered his initial intention of bringing Jinki to the skating rink. He’d harboured a hope that he could somehow make Jinki remember his past life. With that in mind, he had recreated their first date, trying to bring out the Taemin in Jinki. Instead, it had gone in a completely different direction from the original. He supposed he would have to keep trying. He was determined to find some way to bring Taemin back.

“What are we going to do now?” Jinki wondered out loud.

Minho glanced at him. “Anything you like.”

Jinki screwed his face up thoughtfully, in a way that Minho found adorably hilarious. “How about we just get some fried chicken and have a picnic in the park?”

Minho laughed, genuinely amused, and squeezed Jinki’s hand in his. “That sounds perfect.”

He’d completely failed in recreating his first date with Taemin for this one. But Minho found that he didn’t really mind, not when he enjoyed this version with Jinki just as much, if not more.

 **.x.**

 _“Where on Earth did you learn to dance like that?” Minho asked in disbelief._

 _Taemin grinned. “Aww, hyung, you know I love to copy those dances on TV,” he said. “I just combined some of the steps I liked best.”_

 _“Is that what you did? Because that was incredible.”_

 _“Thanks, hyung.” Taemin smiled. “I still have a lot to learn though.”_

 _“I think you’ve got the bases pretty much covered,” Minho told him, still in awe at the talent his boyfriend had just displayed._

 _The red-head blushed. “I want to be a dancing star,” he said. “I have to be really good so I can be one of the best dancers in the country.”_

 _Minho smiled and looped an arm around the younger boy’s shoulders. “I think you can definitely do it,” he said sincerely. “You’re amazing like that.”_

 _Taemin beamed up at him. “Thanks for saying that, hyung,” he said gratefully. “I feel a lot more confident.”_

 _Minho felt warmth envelope his chest. “Anytime you need me, Taeminnie.”_

“Can you dance, hyung?”

“Huh?” Jinki blinked as he handed over the cup of tea he had made.

“Can you dance?” said Minho again. Jinki took a seat next to him on the couch.

“Why do you ask?”

“I was just curious. Can you?”

“Sure.”

“Really?” Minho felt his heart leap up with hope.

“Not really,” said Jinki with a grin, causing Minho’s heart to drop like a stone. “Sorry. I’m terrible at dancing. I keep stepping on people’s toes.”

 “Oh,” was all the bartender said. Taemin’s exceptional talent at dancing had been something Minho had adored in particular. He couldn’t quite keep the disappointment at bay.

Jinki seemed to sense it. “Did you...do you like people who can dance?” he said hesitantly.

Minho’s instincts told him he was on dangerous ground here. One wrong word and he could destroy Jinki’s already fragile confidence in his ability to keep their (still new) relationship going. “Not especially,” he answered carefully. “I just think people who can dance are kind of cool.”

‘And amazing,’ he thought sadly, a familiar sharp pang shooting through his heart.

Silence fell between them.

“I can do the chicken dance,” said Jinki after a while. “Wanna see?”

Minho stared at him and then started to laugh. Jinki was quick to join in, their laughter blending together pleasantly, chasing Minho’s despondency out of the apartment.

He reflected that Jinki not being able to dance (real dances anyway) wasn’t so bad after all.

 **.x.**

“Minho?”

“Yeah?”

“...Why is there star fruit topping on the ice cream?”

Minho looked over his shoulder. Jinki was regarding the bowls of mint chocolate chip ice cream he had set out for them with a bewildered look. The corner of his lips quirked.

“Just because,” he replied simply.

 _“Star fruit?” Minho repeated. “On mint ice cream?”_

 _“It’ll taste good!” said Taemin earnestly. “I eat it like this all the time.”_

 _Minho stared at the scoop, topped with one neatly-chopped slice of orange. If he ate them separately, there wouldn’t be a problem. But Taemin was currently holding out a spoon that contained both the ice cream and the fruit. Was he supposed to eat that?_

 _“Come on, hyung,” the red-head pleaded. “You won’t know you like it until you try.”_

 _Minho continued to stare at the spoon._

 _“Please? For me?”_

 _Damn puppy eyes. With a grimace, Minho opened his mouth and allowed Taemin to feed him the weird combination of food. He chewed._

 _“Well?” said Taemin anxiously._

 _Minho swallowed. “It tastes weird.” When he saw how Taemin’s face fell, he quickly added, “But not bad. Weird, but not bad.”_

 _Taemin instantly brightened again. “Then we can eat it together,” he said happily, scooping up another spoonful and feeding himself._

 _Minho watched him. His expression clearly showed that he enjoyed what he was eating. Minho wondered how on Earth he could_ like _that. It tasted way too weird for him to eat it at leisure. But he didn’t have the heart to refuse when Taemin held out the spoon to feed him again, and opened his mouth._

 _‘The things I do for this kid,’ he thought as the combined taste of star fruit and mint chocolate chip flooded his tongue._

“Where’d you get the idea of eating it like that?” Jinki asked.

Minho glanced at him again. The engineer was now eyeing the orange-topped ice cream with considerable wariness.

“Internet,” he lied smoothly. He cocked his head curiously. “You look like you’ve seen it before.”

“I have.” Jinki grimaced. “My cousin forced me to try it once. Do you like it?”

“...It’s not bad.”

Jinki made a face. “No oranges on mine, thank you very much,” he announced, seizing a fork and beginning to pick the fruit off his ice cream.

Minho watched him, not quite able to muster up the ability to feel dismayed that Taemin’s reincarnation didn’t share the same tastes as his original.

“Take mine off, too,” he said, turning his head before he could see Jinki’s expression.

Jinki smiled as he dragged Minho’s bowl towards him.

 **.x.**

Jinki pursed his lips, eyebrows furrowing in thought as his honey eyes skimmed through the piece of paper he was holding. Minho completely ignored the television and stared as his boyfriend continued to read, chin on his hand and expression blank. He watched as Jinki pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, sinking them in and pulling at the flesh softly. He went on in this manner for a while, oblivious to the scrutiny he was being put through.

He was driving Minho crazy.

“Hyung,” the bartender finally spoke, shifting on the couch.

Jinki hummed distractedly, turning towards him without taking his eyes off the paper. What was so interesting about the damn thing escaped Minho’s knowledge but he didn’t have time to be jealous of it. Right now, he was far more interested in doing something else.

“Look at me.”

With a frown, Jinki tore his gaze away to meet Minho’s and blinked at the intense look he was being given. “I-is something wrong, Minho-ah?” he said nervously, feeling himself warm up under the stare.

Unable to stand it anymore, Minho leaned forward. He brought his hand up to gently grasp Jinki’s chin, causing the older man to tense.

“Hyung,” he said throatily. “I want to kiss you.”

Jinki’s face caught fire but backing away was the last thing on his mind. His honey eyes involuntarily flicked to Minho’s lips as the bartender pulled him closer until he was practically ensconced in his lap. He shivered when the long fingers of Minho’s other hand came to cup the back of his head, bringing his face forward. At that moment, he decided there was nothing more he wanted to do than kiss his boyfriend.

“What’s stopping you?” he whispered.

A smile flashed across Minho’s features before his deep orbs darkened and he tilted his head, gaze burning on that pink mouth. Jinki’s breathing hitched at the look. Then without warning Minho swooped forward and smashed their lips together, causing Jinki to gasp in surprise. The younger man didn’t waste the opportunity and slipped his tongue in, entangling with Jinki’s own. The other moaned at the action and snaked his arms around the other’s neck, pulling him even closer.

Minho took possession of his mouth, tasting every inch of the hot cavern available to him, his teeth biting the full lips as he played tango with Jinki’s tongue which responded with equal enthusiasm. The bartender growled deep in his throat when Jinki made this _delicious_ sound through their kiss, their bodies pressing together in sinful ways that caused heat to spike up at the base of his stomach.

Minho eventually pulled back so they could catch their breaths but pushed Jinki to lie down on the couch. His lips immediately attached themselves to Jinki’s exposed collarbone, drawing yet another breathy moan from the older man’s wet, bruised lips as he nipped and licked every inch of flesh he could reach.

“Minho,” Jinki groaned, his heartbeat thunderous in his ears even as his mind spun at the shock of emotions attacking him. He dragged his boyfriend back up so they could kiss again and this time he pushed his own tongue into Minho’s mouth, exploiting everything he could. Minho let loose a deep guttural noise that could be taken for a moan and pushed Jinki even further into the couch, his hand gripping the other’s hip possessively.

They finally separated after a while, struggling for air. Minho raised himself up on his elbows, their bodies still aligned in a way that made his head whirl and another part of him twitch. Jinki gasped; he had felt it. The bartender quickly scrambled off him, acknowledging (not without some regret) that things were moving a bit too fast. It was only their first kiss, after all. And second, if he counted the one they had directly after.

They sat there in silence, only the sound of their heavy breathing and the television evident as they slowly regained their bearings. Jinki stared dazedly up at the ceiling, thinking about how that was possibly the best kiss he’d ever had. Minho stared at the television, thinking about how that had felt completely different from when he kissed Taemin.

Kisses with Taemin had always been soft and sweet, making his stomach warm up with pleasant emotion. Kisses with Jinki were hot and consuming, making his blood catch fire and turn into liquid lava that flowed through his veins. With Taemin, he hadn’t ever felt the need to go further since he always took into account his young age and the fact he wanted their first time to be particularly special. With Jinki, Minho wanted nothing more than to throw him down right now and take him over and over until his musical voice was hoarse from screaming his name.

What did the distinction mean? He had fully expected the experience to be identical, which was why he had felt so confident. But Jinki’s mouth had tasted different, the way he kissed was different, the way he _responded_ had been totally different. Why? Reincarnation or not, things like that should have been the same, shouldn’t it? But they weren’t and Minho had no idea how to feel about that.

“Minho?” said Jinki, sitting up when he noticed how long his boyfriend had kept quiet. Minho didn’t respond, too deep in his thoughts. What was wrong? Had Jinki been bad? It wasn’t like he had a wealth of experience to draw from; he’d only ever kissed several times in his entire life and even then, he’d never gone too far.

Did Minho regret it?

“Minho,” Jinki called, feeling something in his chest crawl. He swung his legs down and lightly nudged the younger man’s elbow, causing him to look up.

Minho blinked at him, finally brought back to reality. “What is it?”

Jinki hesitated. “Was it...was it okay?” he said tentatively. “Because if it wasn’t I could...I could leave, if you want me to.”

Minho stared. Then he grinned and pushed Jinki back down on the couch. “Where do you think you’re going?” he said huskily. “We’re far from done.”

Differences or no, he wasn’t about to give up the mind-blowing act of kissing the living daylights out of Lee Jinki.

 

 

 **TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

Minho wasn’t really listening to whatever the tour guide was saying. He was more interested in watching Jinki’s face as he took in each and every word. The older man was completely absorbed in the lecture, nodding as his expression varied at certain parts. His honey eyes held an intent look and they remained steady on the guide, completely oblivious to everything else around him.

Minho walked languidly, only able to keep from being bored to tears by entertaining himself with staring at Jinki. He was amused by how engrossed his boyfriend was in the talk. He himself had no idea what was so fascinating about the story of dead people and ancient artefacts from many millennia ago.

When Jinki had begged him to go to the museum with him, Minho had given in easily. Although he knew he would be extremely bored, he couldn’t say no since Jinki had been so excited when he’d read the brochure on the exhibition. That and because he felt a little guilty for dragging his boyfriend through tens of miles just to attend a soccer match. He figured Jinki deserved to do what he wanted in the town they were staying in for the night. And that included visiting the museum there.

Still, Minho did wonder why it had to be a _museum_ of all things. He had never liked history and he would be the first to admit that it had been his weakest subject in school. It had never appealed to him in any way, and age hadn’t changed that. Taemin hadn’t liked history much either, which confused Minho now since Jinki seemed to love it.

 _“Ugh, who on Earth invented history as a subject?” Taemin griped. “And why_ world _history out of everything else?”_

 _Minho shrugged. “Someone who obviously wants kids to suffer,” he said darkly._

 _The red-head snorted. He glared down accusingly at the book open before him, the one he was supposed to refer to for the history report he had to hand in tomorrow. The problem was: he had yet to complete even a quarter of its assigned length._

 _“How am I supposed to finish this?” he groaned, slumping over the table. “I don’t know what year the Cold War ended. What the heck’s a Cold War anyway?”_

 _“The one between the Soviet Union and the US,” Minho informed him, because he at least knew that much. “It means they had a war, just without the fighting.”_

 _“And I need to know that why?”_

 _Minho grinned. “You need to know that so you can pass history.”_

 _Taemin made a face. “Yeah, like it’d be the end of the world if I fail history,” he muttered._

 _“You should try anyway,” said his taller boyfriend. “A fail is a black spot on your record, even if it’s for history. If you want to get into a good college, you can’t afford any black spots.”_

 _“You got into a good college.”_

 _“I didn’t fail history.”_

 _“Wonder of wonders,” said Taemin wryly._

 _Minho snorted. “Just do your homework, brat.”_

 _“What’s the point of learning history again?”_

 _“Beats me.” Minho pulled Taemin’s history book over. “Here, I’ll help, okay? Then we can go get a smoothie or something.”_

 _Taemin smiled at him. “That sounds like a plan,” he said with far more cheer than he had shown thus far. Minho couldn’t help but return the look._

They had both disliked history. It had been one of the many things they had in common, one of the many things they had suffered through in that one year Minho held close to his heart. He didn’t at all understand how Jinki could adore history so much, when his original life form would rather let it remain buried than to dig it out into the light.

“Look at that, Minho!” said Jinki, sounding exactly like a child at the zoo as he pointed animatedly at a gold-plated chest inside a display case.

Minho tried to look attentive and he wasn’t sure he succeeded but it didn’t matter since Jinki’s attention was almost immediately captured by some other object across the room. Minho grinned as the older man bounded towards it. Although he still had no idea what was interesting about ancient history, he supposed he could endure it if it made Jinki this happy.

 **.x.**

“Jinki-hyung, could I ask you something?”

Jinki shifted in Minho’s arms, looking up at him curiously. “Sure, anything.”

“You said you can’t dance, you don’t want to be an actor or a model and you don’t really feel variety shows are your specialty.” Minho frowned. “But you wanted to be a star. Just what kind of star did you want to be?”

Jinki blinked at him then laughed softly. “I thought it would’ve been obvious,” he said, eyes twinkling in a way that made Minho want to kiss him. Which he did. When they finally surfaced, he tried to remember what they had been doing before that.

“What were we talking about?” said Jinki dazedly.

Something about stars? Why would they be talking about stars? Oh, wait, they had been talking about people stars. Right.

“I asked what type of star you wanted to be,” Minho told him once he’d regained his mental wits.

“Oh, right. I wanted to be a singer.”

Minho blinked. “A singer?” he repeated inquisitively. Taemin had liked to sing. “So you can sing, hyung?”

Jinki shrugged though the action was limited seeing as he was enveloped in his boyfriend’s arms. Minho wriggled a bit on the comforter until they were face to face.

“I’m not bad,” said the older man.

Minho raised an eyebrow. “Will you sing something for me?” he asked.

Jinki was silent for a moment. “What do you want me to sing?” he said, looking into the other’s dark orbs.

“Anything you want.”

From the first moment Jinki began, Minho was instantly enchanted. Before this, he had always thought his boyfriend’s voice was pleasant. But his singing? It was _exquisite_.

Smooth and sweet not unlike chocolate, it was soft, enthralling, painting the words in the air with gentle strokes of tone and tenor. The sound flowed through Minho like a fluid breeze, velvety and warm, enveloping him in a spell he had no desire to escape from. It sent goose bumps rising on his skin and caused his heart to twist in a sweet pain.

It was definitely different from Taemin’s. Taemin’s had been higher in pitch and their level of smoothness wasn’t the same. Minho couldn’t tell what exactly had changed but he didn’t care. He was already in love with this deep melodic voice that sent warmth coursing through his very being.

“That was...wow,” said Minho softly when it was over. “You sounded incredible.”

Jinki blushed but his smile was pleased. “I don’t know if it was good enough to be a star,” he said, looking up at the ceiling. “But I think I could’ve gotten there if I continued.”

Minho gazed at him. “I think you could have, too,” he said after a while. “If Jonghyun-hyung heard you, he’d probably drag you to karaoke every weekend.”

Jinki laughed. Minho’s smile bloomed at the musical sound and he tucked his head into the crook between Jinki’s neck and shoulder.

“Sing for me again,” he requested, closing his eyes. Jinki put his chin on the top of his boyfriend’s hair and opened his mouth to comply.

 **.x.**

Fights with Taemin had been painful. No matter who was at fault, Minho always felt bad for causing that shiny sheen to appear in Taemin’s eyes and for that soft, pink mouth to tremble with barely-controlled emotion. He had always felt guilty for causing his young boyfriend any sort of distress, especially in that short year they had left together. He wanted to take care of him, but sometimes he ended up causing more hurt than anything.

Taemin was a fiery little thing, and he never wanted to give in if he thought he was right. Despite it being terribly annoying at certain times, Minho couldn’t help but love that about him. They were both hard-headed and they never wanted to give any sort of leeway to the other in their arguments. They would go on and on until one or the other broke and apologised or until they were both too fed up to continue.

Most of the time, it was Minho who ended up going to apologise. His unbearable sense of remorse never failed to make him search out his little redhead and hug him until he heard the words “It’s okay” slip from his mouth. Taemin was never one to stay mad for long and he was frequently the one who apologised first.

It always worked that way: Minho would be the one to find him but it would be Taemin who said sorry first. Whoever it was to blame, this system never failed to smoothen them back out.

Fights with Jinki were excruciating. Minho hadn’t known it was possible to feel guiltier now than he had with Taemin. But seeing the mix of anger and sorrow on Jinki’s face caused his heart to constrict agonisingly. Seeing the tears prick the corner of honey eyes, managing to stay there by sheer will alone; he found it difficult to breathe. Seeing Jinki whirl around and stalk away, shoulders locked and gait mechanical as he struggled not to break down right there, made Minho want to chase after him and scream how sorry he was.

But he didn’t. Because his blood was boiling with his own rage, his heartbeat pounded in his ears and he felt like strangling something. He was too furious and the last thing he wanted to do was lose face in front of the man who had made him this way. The last thing he wanted to do was run to Jinki and grovel for forgiveness when it _hadn’t been his damn fault_. So he stood there, frozen, and watched as Jinki stomped his way out of the cafe and, maybe, out of his life.

The little shop was completely silent. Through an angry blur, he slowly remembered that he and Jinki had been in public when they started fighting. Everyone had witnessed their loud argument. Thankfully though, ‘everyone’ consisted of an elderly woman and two of the waiters. It was a slow Friday morning.

Minho sighed and collapsed onto the nearest chair. He hid his face in his palms, trying to calm himself and forget the distraught expression engraved on Jinki’s face when he fled the cafe. Something was twisting painfully in his chest and no matter how hard he avoided it, the image was burned into the back of his eyelids.

This was the worst fight they had gone through so far. Their words had been vicious, cutting and Minho could still feel the scars bleeding on his heart. He knew Jinki had just as much.

And the worst part was; it was entirely his fault.

“Hey,” a voice spoke softly. He looked up but to his disappointment he only saw his co-worker Jonghyun who took a seat next to him.

“Sorry,” said the bartender, burying his face in his hands again. “I shouldn’t have made such a scene. It was...I didn’t mean to.”

“I can see that,” said Jonghyun delicately. “You okay?”

Minho grunted. “Not really sure. I feel like I should play Spiderman off the side of my apartment building. Maybe shoot an octopus or two. That counts as okay, right?”

Jonghyun smiled slightly, knowing the other wasn’t being serious. “How about you take a break for today?” he suggested. “I’ll cover for you.”

Minho stared at him. “Really? You’d do that?”

“Well, you’re pretty much useless like this,” the other said jokingly. “Plus, I don’t think it’s too safe to leave Jinki-hyung alone when he’s in that mood.”

Minho’s expression tightened and he closed his eyes for a moment before turning back to his friend. “Thanks,” he said gratefully.

“No problem.” Jonghyun clapped his shoulder amiably. “Now get lost.”

Minho smiled at that but as he stepped out of the cafe – politely ignoring the speculative glance the old lady gave him over the rim of her teacup – it faded. Now what? His head was a mess and he could hardly think. His anger hadn’t entirely left him yet. So what should he do?

He hadn’t visited Taemin’s grave yet this week. And he had nothing else to do for the rest of the day. He could use this opportunity now, couldn’t he? He needed to cool down, clear his head. It was perfect. With a determined expression, Minho turned and hailed a taxi. He didn’t have the patience for the train. Before he entered, however, he took out his cell phone and turned it off.

He didn’t want to be disturbed today.

Two blocks away on the left, Jinki buried his face into his soaked pillow and pretended he wasn’t desperately wishing for his phone to ring a familiar ringtone set to play for one person alone.

 **.x.**

“Has he called yet?” asked Kibum curiously.

Jinki’s lips thinned. “No,” he said shortly, keeping his eyes trained on the kids standing at the top of the slide.

His fellow worker hummed thoughtfully. “It’s been three days,” he commented, as if Jinki didn’t know. “And you don’t even go to that cafe anymore, right?”

The older man didn’t answer. He refused to look at him, for fear of showing the raw emotion swirling in his eyes. Kibum looked at him inquisitively.

“I don’t know what his problem is,” he said airily. “I mean, what a stupid thing to fight over. Seriously, because he was jealous over one girl? He’s such an idiot; as _if_ you see anyone _but_ him. Though I guess you’re as much of an idiot, too, since you should’ve assured him instead of getting mad right back.”

Jinki was silent and it wasn’t at all obvious that each word stabbed him in all the right places.

“Honestly, how long are you two going to keep it up? I don’t think it’s worth it acting like you don’t know each other just because of something so dumb. What would it—”

“Can you drop it, please, Kibum?” Jinki interrupted. “You aren’t really making me feel better. I’m just tired of it. I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t want to hear anything about it, I don’t want to even _think_ about it. So stop.”

Kibum sniffed in disdain. “I’m just telling you what I think.”

“Yeah, well, what you think isn’t really going to fix things.”

“Pretending you don’t care isn’t going to fix things either,” his eccentric co-worker shot back.

“Talking to you isn’t going to help.”

“You’re right,” Kibum said brazenly. “Talking to me won’t help your problem one bit. Talking to _him_ , though, might.”

Jinki glared at him and chose not to reply, turning back towards the kids. Satisfied, Kibum said nothing more on the matter. He was certain he’d said all he needed to.

 **.x.**

Almost a week after the big fight, Minho was close to ripping out pieces of his hair. He was stressed to his limit. Guilt was trying to eat him from the inside out. He couldn’t sleep properly, his mood was down 23 hours a day and Jonghyun had told him that, while his ‘mysterious, dark disposition’ drew in female customers like moths to a flame, he was worrying the hell out of his friends.

He was in a rut. And it didn’t look like he would be getting out of it anytime soon.

Minho exhaled in frustration and sat up. He stared blankly at the calendar opposite his bed. Six days. Six days had passed since he’d talked to Jinki. Six days had passed since they’d even seen each other. Quite frankly, it was driving him crazy. And he wasn’t going to take it anymore.

Without a second thought, the slim bartender swung himself out of bed. In a matter of minutes he was fully-dressed and ready to go. He didn’t care what the end of the day would bring; he damn well knew he didn’t want to continue living like this. He was going to do something and if it didn’t turn out as he hoped...well, he’d deal with it when it came. Now, he couldn’t sit around swinging his legs anymore. He had to do something to make things right again or he’d go nuts.

The jog to Jinki’s apartment took too long for his liking. There were a lot of people out on the streets despite the drizzle and the umbrellas were limiting his speed. By the time he reached his destination, he was partially soaked and shivering in his jacket. He ignored the elevator area crowded with residents and instead took the stairs two at a time up to the sixth floor.

Soon enough he was standing, breathing heavily, in front of Jinki’s apartment.

Minho paused, unsure. What was he supposed to do now? If he knocked on the door and Jinki answered, what was he supposed to say? He hadn’t planned anything beyond sprinting over here.

‘Well, you’re not accomplishing anything by just standing here,’ a voice whispered in his mind.

The tall man closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That was right. Just standing around wasn’t going to help; turning back was no option. He’d come here for a reason and that was to get Jinki back.He would just have to pray that when Jinki opened that door, he would know just what to say to make things better.

He would also pray that Jinki wouldn’t slam the door in his face when he saw him.

With a steely expression on his face, Minho stepped forward, raised his hand and gave the hard wood two quick raps. No one answered him. He knocked again. Still nothing. He frowned.

“Hello?” he called, tapping on the door with his knuckles. “Anyone home?”

Silence. One quick glance at his watch made him groan internally. Three o’clock. He was such an idiot; of course no one was home. Jinki was still at work.

‘Now what?’ Minho thought miserably, sinking to the floor and leaning his head back against the door. He’d wait. Like he always does, like he had always been doing.

He’d just wait.

 **.x.**

It turned out that he didn’t have to wait for too long. Less than ten minutes later, a familiar, melodic voice echoed through the hallway, causing Minho to jerk his head up in hope.

“Minho?” said Jinki in utter disbelief as the elevator doors slid close behind him.

“Jinki-hyung,” said the bartender, rising to his feet. “You’re home.”

Jinki blinked up at him, mouth agape, like he couldn’t believe his eyes. Minho felt a little uncomfortable with the stare and shifted on his feet. But his prayers had been unanswered; here he was looking Jinki right in the face and he had absolutely no idea what he should be saying.

Jinki looked as bad as Minho felt. His already small eyes had grown smaller from lack of sleep and his skin was an unnatural pale colour; an obvious sign of unhealthiness. His hair, usually kept neat and manageable, was in a wild disarray made worse by the rain outside; its wet strands stuck to his forehead in messy – but still attractive – manner. From the way he held himself, it was clear he was exhausted.

He was suffering just as much as Minho was.

And it became especially obvious just how badly Jinki was suffering when his lips suddenly compressed, he dropped the bag hanging from his arm and then flung himself at Minho. Shocked, the taller man caught him with an “Oof!”, stumbling slightly at the unexpected impact.

Jinki pressed his face into the fabric of Minho’s jacket and with a jolt, the bartender realised he was crying. Immediately he wrapped slender but strong arms around the small, shaking body, hugging him as tightly as he possibly could.

“I’m sorry,” Jinki choked.

Minho tensed. “What the hell are _you_ sorry for?” he said incredulously.

“I didn’t—I’m sorry I got mad. I was being an idiot and I shouldn’t have gotten mad over something so stupid. You were just a bit suspicious and I should’ve understood instead of getting mad. I shouldn’t have gotten mad at all! Please forgive me, Minho, I can’t say how sorry I am but I miss you so much and—”

“Shh.” Minho laid his head and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the tears slip from the corners. “It’s not your fault.” Now the guilt was almost succeeding at eating him from the inside out; his heart hurt so much. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, hyung. I’m the one who should be begging for your forgiveness.”

Jinki sobbed and Minho’s heart clenched. He pulled the other man closer, desperately wishing he could hug the pain away.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered fiercely, voice tight. “I swear I won’t do it again. I was such an ass, and I don’t deserve you at all but I can’t let you go. I’m sorry. I’ll never make that mistake again. Please stop crying, Jinki, it hurts seeing you cry.”

Jinki coughed and Minho squeezed him, unable to stop his own sob. The older man pressed closer and clutched the back of Minho’s clothes as if he was afraid that if he let go, Minho would disappear. They clung to each other, crying, and it was like they were weeping away all the sorrows of the past week, washing it with their tears.

“I’m sorry,” Minho breathed, pulling away so he could look into Jinki’s face. It was tear-streaked, his nose was red and his small eyes were puffy; Minho didn’t think anything else could be more beautiful. Before he even thought about it, he had leaned down to capture Jinki’s lips in a longing kiss. Happiness bloomed in his heart when Jinki didn’t hesitate to return it. Finally, it was all fixed.

It didn’t occur to him that he hadn’t thought of Taemin even once.

 **.x.**

“You’ve made up,” was the first thing Kibum said when Jinki arrived at the centre the next day.

As if on cue, Jinki flushed. “It—it’s obvious?”

“It’s written all over your face,” said his co-worker dryly. “You’re grinning like an idiot.”

Jinki was too happy to take offense.

 **.x.**

“Finally!” Jonghyun exclaimed the moment Minho stepped into the cafe.

The bartender stared at him. “What?” he asked warily.

“I thought it’d take _forever_ for you two to make up,” the shorter waiter said, shaking his head. “I was getting sick of seeing you moping around. I was _this_ close to locking you guys up together in my apartment.”

Minho opened and closed his mouth several times, unsure how to respond to that. In the end, he decided it was a waste of time to answer and simply walked behind the counter. But during the lunch hour later, Jonghyun grinned and took care to note the split-second, silly smile that crossed Minho’s face when Jinki tripped on his way in.

 **.x.**

“The weather’s really nice today,” said Jinki, peering through the branches and leaves of the tree above him. The sky was a pretty blue, marred by wisps of white cloud.

Minho, who was curled up against him, hummed. “Good for us,” he said cheerfully. “It’s been so rainy lately. I thought we couldn’t have a day out at all.”

Jinki smiled and burrowed into his boyfriend, placing his chin on top of his head. “Well, we can now. I’ve missed doing this.”

Minho’s answering smile was gentle. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Me, too.”

They sat in silence after that, watching the kids at the playground play whilst enjoying each other’s company. Jinki shifted slightly on the quilt they had laid out over the grass, his eyes distant. Minho kissed his neck.

“What are you thinking?” he said, nuzzling him affectionately.

Jinki glanced down at him, expression as bright as the sun. “I was just remembering the first day we met,” he answered.

Minho reached to interlock their fingers. “Really?” he said, smiling. “I remember it clear as day.”

His boyfriend grinned. “I know,” he said. “I think that was one of the happiest days of my life.”

“I’m glad you think so, because it was definitely one of mine.”

Jinki kissed his forehead. “You know, I still wonder what made you talk to me. It’s not like I was anything special.”

Minho squeezed his hand. “You’re more than special,” he told him firmly. “You looked upset that day and I don’t know; I just couldn’t leave you alone. I wanted to make you feel better for some reason.”

“You didn’t even know me, though.”

The bartender shrugged. “I can’t explain it. I just wanted to make you stop brooding.”

Jinki’s jaw dropped. “I wasn’t _brooding_!”

Minho laughed, pinching him lightly on the ribs. “Oh, yes you were,” he said. “You practically brought a storm cloud in.”

“I wasn’t brooding. I don’t brood. _You_ brood.”

They’ve come a long way, Minho mused. Three months ago Jinki wouldn’t have dared to argue with him. Now, their friendly bickering was one of the highlights of his days. Jonghyun had called them a married couple. Minho had let it go only because Jinki had told him his friend Kibum had labelled them ‘a pair of kindergarteners who have crushes on each other’, which was far more embarrassing.

“Whatever you say,” he said airily. Whether it was called brooding or not, their first meeting in the cafe had definitely been one of the most joyful days of his life.

Abruptly he remembered that they had actually met each other way farther back than that. In all actuality, he’d first encountered Jinki when he was eight years old, when they were just kids and Jinki was Taemin. But he supposed it didn’t matter. He’d met Taemin 15 years ago. He’d known Jinki for almost a year and that didn’t affect his feelings one bit.

“I just remembered something,” said Minho aloud.

“Hmm?”

“The day I first talked to you. I asked why you were looking so down and you just said you were looking for someone.” The younger man glanced up at his boyfriend.

“Oh,” said Jinki with a chuckle. “That wasn’t anything big, really. It was just on a whim. I was searching for this one guy.”

“What guy?” Minho asked, unable to keep a slight tinge of jealousy out of his voice.

Jinki laughed. “I don’t really know, actually,” he confessed.

“You were looking for someone you don’t know?” said Minho incredulously, cutting his boyfriend off before he could continue.

“Do you want to listen to the story or not?”

“Right, sorry.”

“Anyway, I moved here almost a year ago because of that job offer I told you about. Then my aunt told me that the area I was in was also the place where my late cousin’s boyfriend lived so I decided to look for him.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know,” his boyfriend admitted with a sigh. “I guess I just...wanted to see how he was like. My cousin told me a little about him.” He smiled slightly. “He made him sound like some sort of superman; that was how much he liked him.”

“Is your cousin...?” Minho stopped, hoping he didn’t sound callous.

“Dead.” Jinki’s countenance saddened significantly. “Kidney cancer. It was too advanced to save him when they found it.” He closed his eyes. “He was so young. The doctors couldn’t do anything for him.”

Minho felt his stomach clench in a painful manner. He suddenly felt terribly cold. And the feeling was growing worse with every word he listened to.

“It was hard for us.” Jinki looked off at the busy playground, eyes distant. “I was on a trip abroad when he was diagnosed.”

 _“I miss my cousin.”_

 _“Your cousin?”_

 _“Yeah. We’re close.”_

 _“Where is he?”_

 _“He’s on a trip. Mom’s trying to get into contact but she hasn’t found him yet. I miss him.”_

“I didn’t find out about it until a few weeks before he passed away. I was there and I...couldn’t stand it.”

 _There had been only a few family members with him when he died. Minho didn’t know who exactly; just that it was his parents and a cousin. He hadn’t felt the need to find out; it hurt too much._

“I left. I didn’t even attend the funeral. I couldn’t stay there anymore. We were so close and watching him die; I just couldn’t handle it. So I left and stayed at my grandmother’s house in New Zealand.”

A gentle wind breezed past, ruffling their hair but neither noticed. Minho’s skin was crawling and it felt like an incurable chill had set deep into his bones.

Jinki sighed again. “I came back after I got the job offer. When I told my aunt where I was staying, she told me that my cousin’s boyfriend lived here and I decided to look for him. I didn’t find him.” He snorted. “Well, it isn’t a surprise since I don’t even have a picture of him and I didn’t want to ask my aunt about him. The only time I ever saw him was, like, so long ago I don’t even remember anymore. I didn’t even think I’d actually find him, really. I was just...I just wanted to see who it was my cousin had fallen for.”

He felt sick. With a lot of difficulty, Minho swallowed past a huge lump in his throat and sat up, disentangling himself from his boyfriend’s arms. Jinki caught sight of his horrified expression and grew worried.

“Minho?” he said, sitting up as well. “You look so pale.” He reached out to touch the taller one’s cheek, causing him to wince. The older man’s worry increased. “What’s wrong?”

Minho stared at him, feeling as though stones were weighing his stomach down. It was suddenly hard to breathe. Still, he had to ask. He had to make sure.

“Y-your cousin,” he said, forcing the words out. His voice was just a level above a whisper, trembling with suppressed emotion. “Was it...was his name Lee Taemin?”

“Yeah,” said Jinki, shocked. “How’d—how did you know that?”

Abruptly Minho went deaf. All the noise of the outside world had fallen silent in the face of his horror. He gazed at Jinki, stricken. No, it wasn’t true. It _couldn’t_ be true; he wouldn’t accept it. Jinki couldn’t be Taemin’s _cousin_. It was impossible!

 _“Anything’s possible, hyung.”_

Jinki reached out to clutch at his shoulders, shaking him. He was growing alarmed when Minho refused to respond to him.

“Minho,” he called, panic beginning to crawl up his spine. “Minho! Answer me! What’s the matter with you?”

Minho could only stare at him, expression blank but his deer-like eyes swirling with so many emotions that they blended into an incomprehensible blur. Something was very wrong with him. Jinki was getting scared.

Suddenly Minho jerked out of his grip and jumped to his feet. He couldn’t stay here anymore. He was going to puke. He needed to get away. Far away. Turning on his feet, Minho sprinted off, ignoring Jinki’s startled calls for him to come back. If he had looked back, he was certain he would have burst into tears.

 **TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

Kibum looked up when Jinki stumbled into the office. He eyed him carefully.

“You look terrible,” he said in surprise.

“Thanks.”

“The last time you looked this bad, you were having problems with that Minho. Are you guys fighting again?”

Jinki rubbed his face, knowing he looked like a mess. “I don’t know,” he said miserably. “We were sitting at the park and then he suddenly ran out on me. He won’t answer any of my calls and when I went to his apartment, he wouldn’t come to the door.”

“That’s weird.” Kibum frowned. “What’s wrong with him?”

Jinki didn’t know and, at that moment, he’d give anything to find out.

 **.x.**

“He called in for a break.”

Jinki stared at Jonghyun in dismay. “Break?” he repeated.

“Yeah.” The waiter turned temporary bartender placed his chin on his hand as he stared at the older man. “He never does that. I was reeling when the manager told me he was taking some time off. He isn’t answering his phone either. Did something happen?”

Jinki sighed. “To tell you the truth, I have no idea. One second we were fine, next he was running from me like I had the plague.”

Jonghyun gazed at him with some concern. “You look upset,” he commented. “How’re you holding up?”

Jinki hugged himself, staring at the countertop. “I want to be with him,” he whispered. “But he won’t even talk to me.”

The other pursed his lips. “Wait a bit,” he requested, turning. “I’ll get you some hot chocolate to go. It’s cold outside.”

“I don’t really—”

Jonghyun cut him off mid-protest. “It’s my treat,” he said with a small smile. “You’re going to camp out in front of his apartment, right? The chocolate’ll warm you up a bit.”

Jinki settled. “Thanks,” he said gratefully as he accepted the tall carton.

“No prob. Now go and knock some sense into that alien’s head.”

Jinki didn’t laugh.

 **.x.**

Minho didn’t know how long it had been since he had run from Jinki that fateful day in the park. In all honesty, he didn’t care to find out. The days had all blended into a blur and he couldn’t really remember much of the time that had passed. He was too stuck within his mind, within the whirl of indistinct thoughts he had submerged himself in.

He still didn’t understand it. He didn’t know how he could’ve been so stupid. All the facts had been right in front of him but instead of taking them at face value, he’d looked somewhere else, choosing to believe something ridiculous over the logical explanation. How on Earth could he have assumed that a _reincarnation_ was the most likely reason as to why Jinki reminded him so much of Taemin?

He had been an idiot. Tricked by his grief, he had been so desperate to believe, so desperate to have Taemin _back_ , that he had become blind to reality. Instead of rationalising, he had gone off on a bizarre tangent and formed an outrageous conclusion. He had no idea what he’d been thinking.

Wait. It was simple. He hadn’t.

Minho knew he had no one to blame but himself. No matter what lies he told, he couldn’t hide the fact that this entire farce was his fault. He had been the one to ‘connect the dots’, the one to come up with the stupid theory of Taemin coming back to life in another body. There had been so much evidence to show how absurd he was being but he just refused to see it.

Jinki was older than Taemin. Logically, any sort of reincarnation should have been younger because for certain Jinki had been around before Taemin had even been born. There was no way he could be Taemin, unless he’d been possessed which definitely wasn’t the case. But instead of seeing that, Minho had dismissed it without a single thought. He’d chosen to ignore the proof screaming in his face.

And that was only a small part of it. He’d noticed the blatant differences between Jinki and Taemin. The way Jinki was more soft-spoken and how his smile had more teeth, how Taemin had been bubblier; his laugh clearer and higher. He’d noted that Jinki hadn’t even an ounce of Taemin’s natural grace and that Taemin hated school as much as Jinki loved it.

Jinki was an only child. Taemin had two siblings. Jinki loved to sing; Taemin loved to dance. Jinki always pressured himself to stay high on the honour role and Taemin was only concerned with getting passable grades. Taemin had adored dogs while Jinki was terrified of them. Taemin was bouncy and witty. Jinki was gentle and funny. They were like night and day; similar in some ways but clearly distinct. And Minho saw it all.

He just chose to turn a blind eye. And now he was paying for it.

Since that day in the park, Jinki had been coming by whenever he had the time and wouldn’t leave unless he had no choice. He would knock each time and when there was no response, he would start to please with Minho to answer him.

“Minho-ah,” he would call, voice tense and worried. “Please stop hiding. Will you just talk to me? What did I do?”

But Minho never replied. He couldn’t. Cowardly as it was, he couldn’t bear to face Jinki, to look into those soft honey eyes and see the heart-felt concern. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve _Jinki_ , not after the way he had treated him. Because he’d been horrible. He was even disgusted with himself for his behaviour.

Painful as it had been when he realised it, Minho had been forced to admit the true reason he had been so eager to believe in a fantasy. He hadn’t moved on from Taemin’s death; the grief had stayed within him, festering like a livid wound, as fresh and alive as the day it had been born. He had never been able to accept the fact that his little redhead was gone, that he could never have Taemin by his side ever again.

A large part of that had been because of guilt. Minho had felt terrible for not being there for Taemin, for not being the boyfriend and lover the younger boy had needed. When Taemin died, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he should’ve done better, how he should’ve cherished Taemin every single second since the moment they met and not only when he was told their end was right in front of them. He’d been so distraught, so mad that he couldn’t forgive himself.

And when Jinki appeared, he saw an opportunity.

At the time, he hadn’t seen anything wrong with it. He’d been convinced that it was Taemin, reborn, and with him came the perfect opening for him to redeem himself. Minho had seen Jinki as a second chance. So he’d used him. It hadn’t been so bad in the beginning, because essentially the term ‘used’ wasn’t applicable since he’d thought Jinki was Taemin. But the facts didn’t change; he should’ve known better and in the end he’d wound up using Jinki just to make himself feel better.

He felt like such a bastard. He’d taken advantage of Jinki and with that knowledge thriving in his mind, he couldn’t to see him again. It wasn’t only that either. Minho felt disappointed with himself. Despite grieving, he had been so eager to snatch up Jinki. Reincarnation or not, he shouldn’t have been so hasty because that showed how easy it was for him to replace Taemin.

And he _hated_ himself for that.

Taemin had meant more to him than anything. He was still important now! Minho couldn’t stand thinking that he had been so ready to allow someone else to take Taemin’s place, never mind that ‘someone else’ was Taemin’s reborn self as he thought at the time. He had been so greedy to make peace with himself that he’d pushed aside logic and rationale, Taemin’s memory and more importantly, Jinki’s feelings.

If Jinki knew about this...he’d never forgive him. No matter how big his heart was, there was no way he could excuse this. There was no way he would be alright if he knew how he had been used without regard. _Minho_ wasn’t alright with it! He didn’t want to face Jinki’s rejection, the hurt that would overwhelm both of them alongside his guilt. He wasn’t strong enough to overcome it.

He never had been.

 **.x.**

“Don’t you have any idea why he won’t talk to you?” Kibum asked, feeling just a little bit worried when he saw the dark circles under Jinki’s eyes.

The older man shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said wretchedly. “I still don’t know why he even ran in the first place.”

“Maybe it was something you said? Do you remember what you were talking about?”

Jinki tried to remember. “My cousin,” he finally said.

“The dead one?” Kibum looked suitably ashamed of himself when the other turned to glare at him. “Sorry, that was insensitive.”

Jinki was too tired to even snap at him. “When I first came here, I was looking for my cousin’s boyfriend,” he explained. “Minho was asking about it so I told him. Then he just tensed up and ran.”

His co-worker frowned. “That can’t be it,” he said. “I mean, it couldn’t have been because he was jealous or something. No one would get jealous over something like _that_. Because that would mean he’s really stupid.” He paused. “Wait, never mind.”

Jinki snorted. “I don’t think it’s because he was jealous. I told him it was a one-time thing. I never tried again.”

“Well, if he knows that, there has to be something else. Anything you said that could’ve been weird?”

“I don’t think I said anything weird.”

“You sure?”

“If I wasn’t, wouldn’t I have fixed it by now?” Jinki pressed his lips together for a moment and closed his eyes. “Sorry. I’m just tired.”

“I can see that,” said Kibum dryly. He cocked his head. “Alright, so you don’t think you said anything weird. How about him?”

“What?”

“Your boyfriend. Did _he_ say anything weird you can remember? Maybe you can use it as a clue to figure out what’s wrong with him.”

Jinki racked his brain, trying to come up with anything that could be called strange. He blinked. “Now that you mention it...” he said slowly. “There _was_ something.”

“Oh?” Kibum leaned forward in interest.

“I was talking about my cousin,” said Jinki, feeling sure. “But then Minho...he asked me if my cousin’s name was Taemin.”

“Was it?”

“Y-yeah, it was.” Jinki swallowed. “But I’ve never mentioned it before. Never, not once. It was too painful and I try not to but he...I remember being surprised that he knew it.”

“So he knew your cousin’s name.” Kibum blinked. “That’s pretty weird, but what’s it supposed to mean?”

Jinki looked at him in startled realisation. “I have to go,” he suddenly, jumping to his feet and grabbing his jacket.

Kibum sat back, staring. “What?” he said in consternation just as the older man reached the door. “He—where are you _going_?”

“To call my aunt!” was Jinki’s hollering answer and then the sound of his footsteps were gone. Kibum was left to sit alone in the office, wondering what on Earth had just happened.

 **.x.**

Minho glanced at the digital clock on the coffee table. _20:42_ , it read. Jinki had been here this morning before he had to go to work but after that, there had been no word. Which was strange. Usually he would come knocking during lunch and after work, which should have been hours ago. But there was no sound from him. Minho had even peeked through the eyehole; no one had been outside.

Jinki wasn’t there. And it looked like he wouldn’t be coming back.

Minho supposed he should’ve seen it coming. He didn’t really expect Jinki to continue his efforts in trying to coax him out. He had known there would come the time when the older man would finally give up and just leave. He had probably realised that it was a waste of time waiting out there and decided to move on. Minho wondered if he was fed up now.

He was glad. Really, he was. He wanted Jinki to leave and never see him again. It was the best for both of them. Jinki deserved better, someone who didn’t use him like some sort of toy, someone who would put him above all else. Minho knew that someone wasn’t him; he’d proved that he was more selfish than anything. He wasn’t right for Jinki. It was good that he was gone.

So why did Minho feel like curling up into a ball and crying his eyes out?

‘You don’t have the right to feel sad,’ he reprimanded himself furiously.

But that didn’t stop the depressed feeling from encompassing his insides. Despite all his self-loathing and punishment, he still harboured a tiny bud of hope; hope that Jinki wouldn’t give up on him, that Jinki cared enough to return time and time again. Even though he hated himself for it, Minho couldn’t help but want Jinki to keep trying.

He didn’t have the right to feel that way. But he did and there was nothing he could do about it.

Minho’s eyes slid to the clock again. _20:57_. He uncrossed his legs, absently wondering what Jinki was doing right now. He was probably at home, in the bath maybe. Taking a long, refreshing shower or soaking in the warm tub. Or maybe he was curled up on the sofa with that historical book Minho had given him last month for his birthday, in return for the DVD set of the year’s best soccer matches.

 _Knock, knock_.

Minho’s head jerked up and against his will, the hope flared in his chest. Had that been his imagination? He was sure he’d heard something tap on the door.

 _Knock, knock_.

Minho stood. No, he wasn’t imagining it. That had definitely been a knock. Was it Jinki? But Jinki usually knocked loud and hard, his worry driving him past regular politeness. This time, it was soft and hesitant, just loud enough to be heard. Minho moved towards the door carefully.

“Minho?” Jinki’s voice called out unsurely, causing the bartender to stop short. “Are...are you there? Can you hear me?”

Minho debated on answering but he didn’t have time to make a decision when the older man spoke again.

“I...I’m not going to try to force you out anymore. I just want to talk. You don’t even have to say anything! You just...I hope you’re...that you’re listening even if you don’t want to say anything.”

Minho blinked, confused.

“I talked to my aunt earlier,” Jinki said, his voice quiet and pained. Minho tensed. “I know...I know that you’re Taeminnie’s boyfriend. I didn’t at first but when I asked my aunt and she gave me your name...I can’t say I was all that surprised.”

There was a sigh. “I guess I should’ve known right away. Taeminnie told me a lot about you. The similarities were all there. And when you said his name although I haven’t mentioned it before, I should’ve figured it out. It was directly in front of me, I just...wasn’t looking in the right direction.”

Minho bit his tongue, resisting the urge to tell Jinki that it wasn’t his fault, that it was amazing he had managed to figure out that much in the first place. But he resisted. Speaking would be very, very bad.

“And I know you loved him,” Jinki continued and Minho was sure he hadn’t imagined that strained tone. “Maybe you still do. I don’t know. But I get that it’s hard for you. You two were always so close. Taeminnie adored you; he talked about you all the time. Even before...before he passed away. It’s a miracle I never heard him say your name. Or maybe he did and I just don’t remember. The point is, I... I understand that it’s painful for you to look at me.”

‘It is,’ Minho acceded sadly. ‘A lot more than you know, hyung.’

The older man stayed quiet for a while, so long that Minho had to look through the eyehole to make sure he was still there. He was, leaning on the door, forehead pressed against the wood. He seemed to be taking deep breaths, perhaps prepping for what he would say next. Minho didn’t realise that he should have been preparing himself as well because what the older man said rocked him to the core.

“I’m not going to bother you anymore,” Jinki spoke, voice falling to a whisper. “But I just wanted you to know that...that I love you.”

Minho froze, his breathing catching in his shock.

“I love you, no matter you think you’ve done, even after this. And I don’t think I’m going to stop. Even knowing that you’re— _were_ Taeminnie’s, doesn’t change anything. Not for me. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Jinki took in a shaky breath. “I don’t want that to change our relationship. I know you loved Taeminnie and that this is really tough. Just looking at me probably brings back all sorts of memories. But Minho...” His voice changed, low and trembling; what he was about to say was excruciating for him. “Minho, he’s _gone_. Taeminnie isn’t here anymore and you have to...to let g-go.”

Jinki swallowed before speaking again. “But I’m still here,” he whispered, just loud enough to be heard through the wood. “And I love you. And...and I won’t leave if you don’t want me to. I can wait. You just have to say the word and I’ll stay. If you want me to. If you want me.”

He curled his fingers on the wood and waited. Beyond the door, there was only silence. Painful, telling silence.

“I...I see,” Jinki said softly. “I guess...it isn’t going to work out, huh?” He tried to laugh but what came out was more of a choked sob. “I’ll just be leaving now.”

He stepped away from the door and paused for a moment, just a moment. He looked at the carved wood, tears shimmering in his honey eyes. “Goodbye, Minho.” In a matter of seconds, he was gone.

Inside the apartment, Minho leaned against his door. He stared at the floor with darkened brown orbs. He stood there, completely still and mute. His throat was closed up, unable to utter even a single word and his expression was blank. His countenance was the picture of calm.

But within him swirled a cyclone of emotions, ripping through him with the force of a hurricane. Guilt, anger, hurt and a number of other unmentionable feelings swirled around, tearing him apart. And at the centre of that rampant gale was the certainty that he had just committed the gravest mistake of his life.

 **.x.**

After a while – even he didn’t know how long – Minho straightened and headed straight for his bedroom. He made a beeline towards the closet and pulled open the doors. He stared into it for a second, various thoughts racing through his mind, before he reached up for the highest shelf, standing on the tip of his toes, and felt about at the back of it.

His fingers came into contact with something solid. When he had made sure it was what he was looking for, he gripped the corner and dragged it forward with considerable difficulty. Using both his hands he heaved the heavy chest off the shelf and lowered it to the carpeted floor, waving away the accompanying dust that had lain stale over it for nearly a year. Then he sat down and regarded the rectangular box until his courage returned.

Gathering all his strength, Minho leaned forward and removed the lid. Instantly a bombard of images rose in his mind the moment he laid eyes on the contents within. Slowly, he extended an unsteady hand and touched the closest object: a deflated soccer ball with a significantly large hole. He felt like laughing as he raised it almost reverently, the memory rising alongside it.

 _“Pass it here, pass it here!”_

 _Musical laughter rang through the air and with a great grin Taemin whirled and kicked the ball towards the small boy behind him. He managed to catch it by the ankle and quickly started running, kicking the ball lightly as he went along. He blinked when a shadow suddenly overcame him and, in a totally unwise move, looked over his shoulder._

 _In one lightning move, Minho swerved to the side, ducked and stole the ball directly from under his cousin’s nose._

 _“Hey!” the young boy exclaimed in protest, slowing to a stop even as his brother began to cheer._

 _Minho winked at him before he bolted, ball now in his control. He waved at his partner who was still cheering before the look in his eyes sharpened with a familiar – not to mention terrifying, but you’d never catch Taemin dead admitting that – glint. With his infamous single-mindedness, he began to jog, keeping the soccer ball between his legs as he ran._

 _A flash at his side caused him to glance over only to catch sight of a grinning Taemin chasing him. Minho didn’t falter but increased his speed, his entire form radiating competitiveness. He swerved to the side when Taemin tried to steal the ball, managing to avoid him. But the redhead didn’t give up and continued shadowing him, occasionally lashing out to seize the target and failing each time._

 _As the goal – two sharp poles stuck five feet apart with a third further back to act as the limit – came into view, Minho felt a grin stretch across his lips. He looked at a focused Taemin and was surprised to see him eyeing something else. He turned just in time to see his youngest cousin, Taemin’s partner, duck under his arm and lash a leg towards the globe._

 _Minho wasn’t about to let that happen. With a heaving grunt, he tensed his leg and kicked the soccer ball with all the strength he could muster. It sailed through the air, heading straight towards the makeshift goal. With no goalkeepers, it would score for sure._

 _“Oh, man!” Taemin groaned._

 **Plack!**

 _Everyone froze. The little boys’ jaws were wide open as they gaped. Minho’s eyes were even bigger than they already were. The soccer ball, now impaled on the third pole like a head, vibrated in its place._

 _Silence reigned through the field for a long second. Then Taemin spoke._

 _“I’m blaming this completely on you, Minho-hyung,” he said, causing the other three to whip their heads towards him. “I wasn’t supposed to use that out here. Taesun-hyung gave it to me for my birthday.”_

Minho’s lips curved in amusement. Taemin’s older brother, Taesun, had raised such a fuss over that speared ball. He still remembered the way Taemin had hid behind him as they both received a full scolding from the older boy about safety and “taking care of things”. Taesun had threatened never to let Taemin play soccer again, he remembered.

It had been a great time and a memory he still cherished now.

The chest was filled with things he had more or less forgotten about. There were notebooks, empty photo frames, an old cell phone and other trinkets that used to belong to both of them. Each brought back a memory that either made him smile or made his heart his ache. Some did both. But he kept sifting through them even though he had no idea why exactly he was doing so.

The last object he pulled out was an old, well-used photo album. He recognised it instantly. He took a deep breath as he clutched it, then placed it in his lap.

Flipping through it proved as hard as he had expected it to be. Seeing the many pictures of him and Taemin, of their families, of Taemin alone, brought back an onrush of memories he had tried so hard to ignore.

 _“Hyung, smile!”_

 _Minho instinctively grinned as Taemin slung an arm around his shoulder, positioning the camera above to them facing downwards. One click, one flash, and then a white plastic slide swiftly exited the old device._

 _“Don’t you have anything better to do?” said Minho, amused, as he watched his boyfriend wave furiously at the slowly appearing photo._

 _“Nope!” Taemin replied cheerfully and blew at the plastic. He admired the picture. “Hey, this is pretty nice!”_

 _Minho leaned over to get a look and found himself agreeing. “Yeah, it is.” He tilted his head. “How many of pictures have you caught in this hour alone?” he said dryly._

 _“Not nearly enough.” Taemin beamed at him. “Come on, hyung, don’t you want to remember every second of our youth?”_

 _“You’re only fourteen, Taeminnie.”_

 _“And you’re sixteen,” the redhead shot back smartly. “You’re getting old, hyung! We won’t look this handsome forever. And besides, what’s wrong with taking pictures? I want to fill up that new album mom gave me!”_

 _Minho laughed. “It’s not that it’s wrong,” he said affectionately. “But we have plenty of time. No need to rush.”_

 _Taemin shrugged. “I like taking pictures,” he informed him before leaning over and placing his head on Minho’s shoulder as he raised the camera again. “Say cheese, hyung!”_

 _Minho sighed but the smile that stretched across his lips wasn’t entirely for the photo._

The album was completely full of photos from that year. There were about five more at Taemin’s former home and several at his parents’. The redhead had loved photography – a hobby he shared with Jinki, coincidentally – and there were literally hundreds of pictures he had taken on his own. The album Minho currently held was filled photographs of the two of them. It was painful to look at but he couldn’t seem to stop.

He paused as he reached the end. One photograph, fairly new compared to the rest, fell out onto the floor, causing him to blink. He picked up it up and stared down at it. His breath caught.

It was the last picture he ever caught with Taemin. They were on the redhead’s hospital bed, Taemin clad in the gown and looking paler than his usual skin tone. He was wrapped up in Minho’s arms, head leaning on the older one’s shoulder and a genuine smile on his face. Minho himself looked tired but content and his arm could be seen extended, holding the camera up for them.

It had been taken the day before Minho had reluctantly returned to college. Less than a week before Taemin had passed away. It was a photo Minho had found in his wallet and immediately shoved into the closest album and boxed away along with all the other mementos, too aggrieved to see anything that had to do with Taemin. And now here it was, after nearly a year. Unbidden, the memory of that time together rose in Minho mind.

 _“That looks pretty good,” Taemin commented as his boyfriend placed the newly-taken picture in his pocket. “Are you bringing it with you, hyung?”_

 _“Yeah. I wish I didn’t have to go,” said Minho with a sigh as he buried his head in the crook between Taemin’s neck and shoulder. The redhead smiled slightly._

 _“You shouldn’t have played hookey for so long in the first place,” he chided. “You have to study, hyung. Your exams are important.”_

 _Minho wrinkled his nose. “You’re more important to me than those stupid exams,” he said._

 _Taemin’s smile widened. “I thought I was the younger one,” he said with a soft laugh._

 _“You are. Which is why you should stop acting like Minsuk-hyung.”_

 _The redhead grinned. He snuggled closer and comfortable silence enveloped the room._

 _“Hyung?” Taemin spoke after a while, voice soft and tinged with an emotion Minho couldn’t identify._

 _The student raised his head. “Hmm?”_

 _“Will you promise me something?”_

 _“What is it?” said Minho warily._

 _Taemin was quiet for a while. Minho sat up and looked at him, noting the weary lines crossing his boyfriend’s face as well the absurd paleness of his skin. How frail and small Taemin now looked. Minho tried to ignore it. He couldn’t bear to think about the fact that Taemin’s condition was deteriorating at a much-too-fast rate._

 _“Promise...promise you’ll be happy after I...” The redhead swallowed. “After I go.”_

 _Minho flinched violently. “What are you saying?” he said roughly, lying back down and seizing Taemin’s hand. “That’s a stupid thing to talk about, Taeminnie.”_

 _“Hyung. Promise me.”_

 _Minho couldn’t meet his eyes. “You can’t expect me to be happy,” he said quietly. “There’s no way I’d be happy.”_

 _“Not immediately, no.” Taemin hummed lightly, staring up at the ceiling. “But later. After a while. Everyone needs to move on, hyung. I don’t want you to be an exception.”_

 _“Why are you mentioning this?” said Minho, getting uncomfortable with the subject._

 _Taemin turned to look him straight in the eye. The older boy was struck by the wealth of emotion buried deep within those light brown orbs._

 _“Because time’s running out, hyung,” said the redhead flatly. “I might not get the chance to say this again.”_

 _Minho was silent as a pang went through his heart. Taemin sighed and squeezed his hand._

 _“I love you, hyung,” he said gently. “And your happiness is important to me. Promise me you’ll make yourself happy again after I’m gone.”_

 _“I love you, too, Taeminnie,” Minho finally said, his voice weak. “But that isn’t an easy thing to do.”_

 _Taemin’s smile was pained. “I know. But do it for me.”_

 _“I can’t.”_

 _“Please, hyung,” the redhead pleaded. “I won’t...I_ can’t _rest in peace if I know you aren’t happy. Promise me you’ll move on. Please.”_

 _Minho swallowed with great difficulty. He wanted to say no, to be mad at Taemin for asking something like that of him. But the look within the redhead’s eyes speared right through his heart and he couldn’t._

 _“I promise,” he whispered._

 _Taemin ducked and buried his face in Minho’s chest. The older boy held him tightly and kissed the top of his head, pretending he didn’t notice how Taemin’s shoulders shook in his arms and how the cloth of his shirt was getting wet. He pretended that his face wasn’t just as damp._

 _That day turned out to be the last they ever spent together._

Minho blinked away tears. He missed him. He missed Taemin so much, and that was something he wasn’t afraid to admit anymore. He’d keep him in his heart and in his memory forever. The day he forgot his little redhead would be the day he committed suicide. It wasn’t about to happen anytime soon.

But Minho had to acknowledge that he was gone for good. No matter what he did, Taemin wasn’t going to come back. He should’ve moved on a long time ago but it had been hard. He couldn’t let go. Taemin had been everything to him. He had meant the world to him. But now he wasn’t here anymore and he never would be. Minho had no choice but to accept that.

He needed to live his life. Taemin hadn’t wanted him to be miserable. And what was he now?

 _“I love you, hyung,” he said gently. “And your happiness is important to me. Promise me you’ll make yourself happy again after I’m gone.”_

Minho raised the photo, gazing at it as his heart ached dully in his chest. He smiled sadly. “I’m sorry I didn’t keep that promise, Taeminnie,” he murmured, a finger coming to caress Taemin’s face in the photo. “I should’ve listened to you a long time ago.”

 _“But I’m still here. And I love you.”_

Taemin, his beloved little Taeminnie, was gone. But Jinki was still here and now he was the one who meant the world to Minho. He was the one who had healed the scarring wound Taemin’s death had left on him. He managed to bring a smile to Minho’s face every single time he thought about him. He was the reason Minho had accepted that Taemin wasn’t coming back. He was the one who brightened his days.

He was the one who made Minho happy.

Minho brought the picture to his lips, kissing it softly. “I made the same mistake again,” he whispered, eyes bright as he looked down at the smiling visage of his passed lover. “But this time I’m going to fix it.”

Hopefully he wasn’t too late.

 

 **TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

He made record time by arriving at Jinki’s apartment four blocks away in less than five minutes. Gasping from the fast-paced run, Minho indulged in a few seconds of rest until he was breathing somewhat regularly again. Then he checked his watch. It was already past midnight. He shifted uneasily, wondering if Jinki was still awake. He didn’t want to disturb him.

‘Well, you’re here now,’ he thought in determination. ‘Might as well try.’ If no one answered on the second knock, he’d go home and come back first thing in the morning.

Dragging his courage out from under the metaphorical shoebox, Minho extended his hand and knocked. A sense of déjà vu hit him as he did so; he’d done the same thing several months ago, hadn’t he? He waited in agitation, fidgeting slightly, and trying to convince himself that it was an absurd notion to think that Jinki was out so late.

“Just a second,” Jinki’s voice called out from beyond the door.

Minho’s heart leapt into his throat and then he frowned. Jinki had sounded pretty subdued and tired; with a pang, he realised that it was most probably his fault. No one would feel cheerful after they had put their heart on the line and got rejected without a care for their feelings. But Minho was going to fix that, no matter what.

Footsteps were heard and the door flew open, revealing Jinki clad in baggy sweat pants and an oversized T-shirt. He blinked at the tall boy standing in front of him, looking as though he couldn’t believe his eyes. Minho blinked back. Before he had even thought about it, he had launched himself at Jinki, who shrieked in surprise as the other’s longer body collided with his, causing them both to tumble to the ground.

“Oww...” Jinki whimpered, feeling his backside throb at the less than gentle landing. He shook his head and looked up. “M-Minho?” he said, voice shaky as he finally took in that Minho was _here_

“Jinki.” No ‘hyung’. No formalities. Nothing but his name, spoken familiarly and comfortably, the way a lover should say it. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

Minho pressed his lips together as he stared down at the older man. He rose slightly but didn’t get off completely on the slight chance Jinki wanted to bolt. “I’m sorry,” he repeated unsteadily. “I just...you were right.”

“I was right,” Jinki echoed, confused. “Okay. What was I right about?”

Minho laughed slightly although there was no real humour in it. “I love you, too,” he stated, looking right into Jinki’s honey eyes, watching as they widened impossibly with clear shock, reluctant hope and pained doubt. The last made his heart clench. “I love you so much and I’d always known that but—”

He cut himself off before he started rambling. He had come here for a reason. He wanted to explain himself. He wanted to make things right. He wanted to get Jinki back. He needed to see Jinki smile at him and say it was okay. He took a deep breath.

“Jinki,” said Minho, volume just above a whisper. “I’m so sorry. For everything. I...I know Taemin’s gone but I couldn’t...accept it. We were—he meant the world to me. Losing him, it was terrible. I couldn’t cope. I locked up his things so I wouldn’t have to remember anything about him. I just tried to forget about him like he never existed.

“When I met you, things looked like it’d turn out alright. You reminded me so much of him and...and I thought it was great. Things were so amazing when we started dating. I thought I could fool myself thinking of you as Taemin. Like I said, both are you are so alike. And I just ignored what was different. I wanted so badly to think I had Taeminnie back.”

Jinki’s face had gone blank but his expressive eyes couldn’t hide the hurt that shimmered in them now. Minho gazed at him sadly, at long last comprehending just how big of an idiot he had been.

“But then, things really worked out and I started to...to forget. I don’t even know when it happened exactly but I just—I stopped seeing Taemin in you. I just saw...well, you. And I never realised that until earlier. Until a few months ago, all I saw in you was Taemin. And now...now I don’t see anyone but you.”

Jinki’s eyes snapped up at that, astonished by the gentle tone Minho’s deep voice had taken on.

“I am so in love with you,” Minho said softly. “And I can’t say it’s at all because you’re like Taemin in some ways. When I think about it, you’re not all that similar after all. I fell in love with you because you’re _you_. I love you because you have a beautiful smile. I love you because you make the lamest jokes. I love you because you’re the clumsiest person on Earth.”

He grinned slightly when it struck just how true those words were. “And even if you weren’t all those things, I’d love you anyway, because you’re you and not anyone else. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The grin faded as guilt reared in his chest. Minho leaned down, wrapping his arms around Jinki’s shoulders and burying his face in his soft hair.

“I’m sorry for running away and ignoring you since that day in the park,” he murmured, regret threatening to choke him. “I didn’t know how to react when I find out you were Taemin’s cousin. I panicked. And then...then I felt so bad because...it was like I was replacing Taemin and at the same time I was using you. I couldn’t deal with myself. And I couldn’t see you or I’d break down.”

Jinki felt soft in his arms but his shoulders were tense. His hands had curled on Minho’s chest, clutching slightly at his shirt. He was quiet, patiently listening to everything the younger man had to say.

“Please forgive me, Jinki,” Minho whispered. “I couldn’t...I don’t think I can handle losing someone I love again. I know I was an idiot but I promise—I _promise_ I’ll make you happy. I’ve made so many mistakes already but...I want to do it right this time. I want to try. Let me try. Please?”

His voice was weak because he had no right to ask for anything and he knew that all too well. “Please don’t turn me away. I’m so sorry. I love you so much.”

He froze when the other suddenly wound his arms around his back, fingers grasping at the material of his shirt. He relaxed when he was hugged tightly.

“Idiot,” Jinki muttered with a small hiccup and Minho abruptly realised that he was crying. “I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t forgive you. I love you, too.”

Minho couldn’t stop the huge grin that spread across his face. He pulled back slightly so he could look into Jinki’s wet face and knew there was only one thing he could do. He leaned close. Jinki met him halfway and with a small laugh, they kissed.

Everything was going to be alright.

 **Epilogue**

To say that the day was bright and merry would be a lie. Yet one couldn’t call it dark and dreary either. Jinki supposed he could place it somewhere in the middle; the sky was a pretty shade of blue that was streaked with white clouds, blocking the sun’s rays from directly reaching the earth. It wasn’t gloomy but it wasn’t happy either though that probably had something to do with the occasion.

As he and Minho stepped into the cemetery, a light wind barely stronger than a breeze began to blow about and ruffled their bangs. They took no notice, focusing instead on picking their way around the scattered graves. Without exchanging a word or a glance, they headed for one in particular.

Taemin’s grave was clean and well-kept. His parents came by everyday to make sure he was properly taken care of, even in death. There were two vases flanking the headstone, both filled with colourful arrays of tulip flowers that Taemin’s mother never forgot to water. The grass surrounding the grave was cut shortly but not completely, its neatness constantly maintained by Taemin’s father.

Jinki and Minho stood there for a while, motionless as they stared at the burial place of someone they valued greatly. Although both had been here plenty of times before, it was somehow different this time. Possibly because it was the second anniversary of Taemin’s death. Possibly because they were here together.

“You can go first if you want,” bid Jinki softly, glancing at his boyfriend. Minho thought about it then shook his head.

“You go first,” was all he said.

After a moment, Jinki dropped down to his knees in front of the grave and touched the smoothed dirt. “Hey, Taeminnie,” he greeted. “Guess who I found.” He tried to make it sound cheerful, teasing, but the joke fell flat as the wind gusted by, tousling his hair gently.

“I’m sorry, wherever you are,” he said quietly. “I hope you don’t think that...that I stole him from you.”

Minho leaned down and grasped his hand. Jinki spared him a small smile before his gaze resettled on the tidy patch of dirt. “I hope you’ll be happy for me. I—well, I’m happy now but I’d feel better if I have your blessing with this. I like to think I have it already so...yeah.” He paused, unsure of what to say then sighed.

“I hope you’re peaceful, Taeminnie,” he wished sincerely. “You deserve it after all you went through in your life. I miss you and I think about you a lot. No matter what happens, you’ll always be my favourite little cousin.”

He sat there for a while, just looking at the grave. When he stood, his eyes were suspiciously misty. “Your turn,” he said to Minho with a weak grin, squeezing his hand.

Minho returned the gesture then gracefully fell down in front of the headstone. As Jinki had done not a minute ago, he gazed at it for a long time, sorting through everything he wanted to say.

“Hey,” he spoke. “It’s been a while.”

Two weeks. The exact amount of time he had spent holed up in his apartment avoiding Jinki before they had made up just over a day ago. His weekly visits had been pushed to the back of his mind in favour of angsting.

“I’m sorry I didn’t visit. It wasn’t because I forgot about you. I was dealing with a lot of issues.” He felt Jinki’s touch at his back; just a gentle brush to show that he was there and Minho shouldn’t forget that. “There’s something I wanted to tell you. I’m...happy. Now, I mean. I’ve kept my promise.”

He bowed his head for a moment and when he raised it again, his eyes were darker. “I was so miserable when you left me,” he said sadly. “I couldn’t help but think about you every second of the day and everything I did reminded me of you. Things were different and I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t accept that. It was so hard and I was...close to breaking. But then, I met Jinki.

“Remember when we talked about second chances, Taeminnie? It was something I wished for, everyday. And I got it, just not in the way I thought I did.” Minho paused, mulling the words over. This needed to be said, for himself as much as Taemin, whether the young boy could hear him or not. “I wanted a second chance to make things right with you. That’s what I saw Jinki as. A way to fix all the mistakes I made with you.

“But I didn’t expect to fall in love with him. Actually, I didn’t even think about it. It was only when I was so close to losing him that I realised it. I...I made the same mistake again. I took him for granted, the way I did with you. Only this time...this time I didn’t want to let it ruin my life. I wanted to make things right. And I did. I didn’t waste that second chance.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most,” he murmured. “I couldn’t forgive myself for that. But Jinki stopped me from hating myself so much and, well, I’m trying. I haven’t gotten over you, not completely. I’m moving on, though. Just like you wanted me to. But I won’t forget you. I’ll never forget you.”

Minho placed a palm flat on the Earth as the wind breezed past his jacket ends, causing them to flap slightly. “I love you, Taeminnie.” He looked up at Jinki who was watching him, honey eyes filled with understanding, gentleness. There was a small smile on his face. “And...thank you. For everything.”

He stood up, clapping off the dirt before entangling his hand with Jinki’s. The older man looked at him.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

Minho smiled. “Yeah,” he said truthfully, eyes lit up and clear upon Taemin’s grave. The wind lightly caressed their hair. He turned to Jinki. “Let’s go home.”

Neither of them ever noticed how the serene wind stopped blowing the moment they stepped out of the graveyard.

 **END**

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and/or kudos would be lovely.^^ <3


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